


The Fox in the Briar Patch

by rebelkitty84



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Bonding, F/M, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2018-09-30 04:52:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 47,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10154072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelkitty84/pseuds/rebelkitty84
Summary: Harry runs away from the Dursleys in the summer before his 11th Birthday. Finding himself in London he learns about the Magical World and goes to Hogwarts with his eyes wide open.Will be *eventual* Harry/Draco, other slash and het pairings, very AU but roughly follows the Canon time and story lines.Also Guardian!Snape, Slytherin! Harry and Weasley!Bashing





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey, was perhaps the most normal street in all of Britain. Every house looked the same with perfectly manicured lawns, elegant flowerbeds, sparkling windows and freshly painted doors. Every house neat, bland and uniform. If a visitor happened to wander down that street they would never suspect what was hidden behind the plain, ordinary façade of number four.

It was a perfectly average summer's day in the Dursley residence, Vernon was out at work, Petunia was in the sitting room sipping an iced drink and watching her ‘shows’ and Dudley, their pride and joy, was out in the garden tormenting the ‘Freak’.

No-one on Privet Drive ever seemed to notice anything different about the Dursley’s and would never dare question their behaviour towards their young nephew. A stranger could be forgiven for never guessing that the two boys in the garden were the same age or that they were related. One large, confident and with a nasty expression and the other small, pale and with a nervous air.

Dudley sneered down at his cousin as the smaller boy knelt by the flowerbed, carefully removing weeds from between the stunning array of flowers. 

“Oi Freak, you’d better be done before Dad gets home or you’re in for it,” he jeered with malicious glee “I bet he locks you away for days for the mess you made this time!”

His cousin – who when not being abused by his relatives was known as Harry - looked up nervously, squinting through his broken glasses at Dudley. Looking around the immaculate garden quickly he couldn’t see what the problem was. Looking back at his cousin suspiciously just as the bigger boy made his move.

“No!” he gasped as Dudley started ripping up the delicate blooms that he had been tending for weeks in preparation for the yearly Garden Show.

Harry looked on in despair as Dudley destroyed the flowerbed – the grand centrepiece to the garden. His aunt had worked his fingers to the bone preparing for the show, once again determined to win the annual competition. If it was possible he would have cried. Gardening was his escape from daily life and the place he could focus on the scents and feel of the soil and making things grow.

As he watched Dudley waddle into the house, screeching for his mother to ‘come see what the Freak had done now’, Harry felt a powerful surge of emotion. He fell back to his knees and closed his eyes as he dug his fingers in the warm soil and growled his frustration at the unfair treatment he had once again received.

If he was lucky his Aunt would lock him in his cupboard for a few days.

If he was unlucky she would tell his uncle first.

“Boy, what have you done to my flowers?!” His eyes flew back open as he heard her yelling, and he looked up just in time to see Petunia exit the back door.

“He just went crazy Mum! Suddenly started ripping them all up! He’s mad he is. Are they gonna lock him up in the loony bin?” Dudley followed closely, grinning maliciously at his cousin.

Petunia stopped and glared at her nephew as he knelt there, his green eyes huge and scared behind his broken glasses. 

The garden around him was immaculate, not a single petal bruised or out of place - if anything it was even more magnificent than before he had set to work that morning.

Beside her Dudley just gaped, stunned at the lack of damage.

“I swear Mum… there…there were plants everywhere… all torn up… he did it again Mum… he did that freaky thing!” he said, pulling on her arm.

“Boy, get inside now,” she hissed, eyes narrowed in anger, “and mind you don’t get any mud on my nice clean floors!”

Harry quickly cleared up his tools and clippings, hurrying into the house and carefully removing his tatty trainers before stepping on the pristine tiles of the kitchen. He looked up to see his aunt’s pinched expression as she scowled down at him in disgust.

“I don’t know what you did out there but I’ve told you before boy, we won’t be having any of your….freakishness… in our house. Now you’d better be thankful I’m in a good mood and the garden is looking well for the judging tomorrow, so you’ll just go to the bathroom and then get in your cupboard until I come for you. Understood? No dinner for you today either.”

Harry merely nodded and headed upstairs quickly and quietly - he wasn’t going to risk upsetting her further and risk Uncle Vernon being informed of the incident too. In the bathroom he quickly went to the toilet and washed as best he could at the sink before drinking as much water as he was able to manage. He knew from experience that it would hold off the hunger pains for tonight at least and it would probably be a couple of days before he would be allowed back out of his cupboard so he needed to drink while he could. The small bottle of water he had stashed would be saved until he had an idea what mood his ‘family’ was in tomorrow.

Barely five minutes after he had gone upstairs he was in his cupboard and to his dismay Harry discovered his Aunt had removed his light bulb. It was only 4:15pm and he wasn’t sleepy yet, but he wouldn’t be able to see to draw or read his story book - a raggedy, battered thing he had managed to rescue from Dudley’s bin. 

With a sigh the small boy curled up and tried to focus on his imaginary world, where he still lived with his mum and dad, where they had never died and left him with his horrid relatives...

In this fantasy world they lived in a huge house in the country and his parents never yelled or hurt him for doing ‘freaky’ things.

His daydreams were shattered to pieces when his door was slammed open and the space filled by the huge, angry face of his Uncle Vernon.

This was going to be bad.

~#~

As Harry suffered his uncle's displeasure, in a remote part of the country in a dim, smoky room a circle of dark robed figures held their breath as one of their number began his ritual.

The people forming the circle all wore the same black robes and white ceramic masks whilst the figure in the centre wore a much more elaborate mask in pure silver. He swayed gently, arms raised high as he chanted in a strangely forbidding language. He was stood in the centre of a large and intricately carved stone platform, the surface covered in connected grooves that made up runes and hieroglyphs for a complex ritual. 

In the centre, where he stood, there was a central dais carved out of the same stone, the surfaces covered in carved depictions of tortured souls, more ancient runes and carefully calibrated grooves leading to the web below. On the dais a golden chalice was placed and surrounded with sweet smelling herbs and plants – saffron, frankincense, myrrh and sandalwood were dominant as well as gleaming lines of honey traced over some of the runes.

The wizard in the silver mask scattered a grey white powder in a ring following the deepest carved circle, and changed from a repeating chant to a more powerful speech. As he did so he used his wand to start tracing the runes around him, leaving a fiery trail in its wake  
“Et spiritus redeat ad os integrum corpus et sanguinem innocentempater da mihi carnem tenebrae Domino, puer egospiritum et omnia pro renovatione plantae erat, Sic fiat.” With each word the runes grew brighter and his wand was put away.

With the invocation complete he used a glittering silver knife, the handle studded in rare and precious gems, to cut the throat of a pure white fawn. The blood splashed into the depression in the carved stone dais and flowed into the grooves, down the sides and across the circle to fill and colour the intricate runes as well as the golden cup and plants.

As the blood flowed the wizard once again started to chant, strengthening the wards around the circle. It rose in volume as the circle completed and a thick silver mist began to fill the ring in an almost opaque column, shadows swirling and solidifying in the centre. This was the cue for the outer ring and they all joined hands and started swaying and chanting, their own energy feeding into the glowing column, strengthening the shadowy spectre within.

As the combined spell-weaving reached a crescendo the invisible wall containing the column of silvery smoke collapsed and the cloud rolled out over the group, taking their breath as they felt the chilling power pass through them. All thirty or so members present dropped to their knees and bowed their heads in respect as the man revealed by the iridescent cloud stepped out of the stone circle, swirling tendrils of mist clinging to his naked form. 

“My Lord,” the silver masked wizard whispered reverently “it worked…”

The slender man that had emerged from the smoke smiled thinly as he looked around the group of his most loyal followers. He had spent seven long years in his non-corporeal form, waiting for his people to find the ritual that would bring him back from his half existence. He elegantly accepted the robes handed to him by the silver masked man, hiding his lithe body from view.

Smoothing his hair back from his face he stepped forward gracefully, motioning the robed figures to rise as he did so.

“So it seems Lucius… you have done well. Now take me to somewhere more comfortable where we may speak, my time… away… has allowed some revelations I wish to discuss with you. Severus, Narcissa, please join us – the rest of you will be called when I am ready.

With that two of the white masked followers joined their leader and the silver masked wizard.

Linking hands they whirled away with the crack of apparition.

~#~

Harry tried desperately not to flinch.

Flinching always made his ‘punishments’ a lot worse than when he managed to stay still, and it was the same with crying out – if he stayed quiet it would hopefully end soon. His back and thighs were already covered in bruises and welts from where his uncle had hit him with his belt - the enormous threadbare hand-me-downs he wore were no protection against the worn leather.

From what Harry had been able to decipher from his uncle’s ranting when he was pulled from the cupboard under the stairs, Dudley had told his father about the incident in the garden.

Harry still didn’t know what had happened out there. He had just been so angry at Dudley for hurting his flowers, and so upset at the damage his precious blooms had suffered, that this wave of emotion had flowed out of him and through his hands into the soil and all the damage had been undone. You would think his relatives would be happy - Petunia would win the gala for sure now - but no, here he was being beaten again, just like he was every time something his family deemed ‘freaky’ happened.

Harry curled up on the floor, trying not to cry as he waited to be sent back to the cupboard.

As he lay there, he saw his uncle’s newspaper where it had obviously fallen when he had heard the bad news about his nephew’s behaviour. There across the top the young boy could see the date – July 31 1989 – his birthday.

“Oh,” Harry thought to himself, “Happy birthday to me...”

He somehow doubted that his eighth year would be any better than the others.

Vernon smiled to himself as the boy lay down. Sweat was pouring down his face and his shirt was soaked from the effort he had put into beating the child - it was the most exercise the morbidly obese man ever got, so it never took long for him to become exhausted from these 'discipline sessions' and he felt the need to sit down with a beer.

“Go on Boy, get back to your cupboard then,” he growled. “You won’t be coming out again until Wednesday morning and be thankful at that!”

“Yes Sir,” Harry whispered as he shuffled into the hallway and into his cupboard.

Wednesday was Dudley’s shopping trip for school and Harry would be going to carry all the bags. There would be new books, bags, clothes, shoes, stationary and toys for his cousin, but nothing for him. The Dursley family would never carry their own shopping, not when they had Harry to act as a slave and do it for them. 

Harry may have only just turned eight but he was already well on his way to truly hating his family. Not just disliking them but true, deep hatred. Despite having grown up with their treatment since he was barely fifteen months old he had never been able to accept it as normal, especially after starting school with Dudley. None of the other children wore threadbare clothes that were far too big or had to ‘stay quiet’ about home. Harry’s relatives had already told his teachers that he was a ‘problem child’ and said he was a liar and violent and bullied Dudley at home. He never understood why they believed his aunt and uncle but they did and they never intervened when his cousin and his friends came after him at school.

Over time he went from being eager in class to sullen and unresponsive as the teachers accused him of cheating whenever he achieved good grades or giving detentions and assigning extra work when they thought his classwork was ‘poor’.

Dudley and his gang made sure that Harry had no chance of making any friends at school - they were all too afraid of crossing ‘Big D’ and his friends. And then there was the day that Harry’s teacher ended up with blue hair whilst berating him for yet another one of Dudley’s so called pranks. That had ended up with another beating, time off school and a teacher that hated him for his ‘evil ways’ in the classroom.

Harry spent the three days he was locked in the cupboard napping, carefully sipping his meagre water supply and daydreaming when possible to try and escape the pain from his bruises and the ache of his empty stomach. The door was padlocked due to his ‘punishment’ so he couldn’t sneak out at night to steal leftovers or more water, or even empty his waste bucket - his stuffy, airless cupboard was rapidly becoming more than normally stifling and the ammonia build up made his eyes water and his lungs burn

When he was finally released he could barely stand, and his aunt wrinkled her nose at the smell that came from both him and the cupboard. He trembled as he stood under her disapproving glare, squinting against the light after three days of almost total darkness - the only light had been what had seeped around the edges of the door. Thankfully the welts and bruises had mostly faded - he always had healed remarkably quickly and the only scar he had was the one on his forehead from when his parents died.

“Come on boy, clean your cupboard and yourself then get on with your chores. The list is on the corkboard, I’m going out and they had better be done when I get home,” she snapped, already pulling on her gloves as she headed for the door.

“Yes ma’am,” Harry whispered, his throat still sore.

He was actually fairly pleased as he would have most of the day to himself. Wednesdays were Petunia’s ‘Good Works’ days where she joined other local ladies to organise events to raise money for charity. Vernon was at work and Dudley was out with his friend Piers at the Summer Day Camp run by the local community centre. This meant Harry would be able to do his chores without being tormented and if he was careful he could also sneak some food, and maybe even use some hot water during his shower.

He busied himself with emptying and cleaning his bucket and bleaching it whilst Petunia finished gathering her coat and bag and left. As soon as the front door clicked shut Harry grabbed his clean clothes and the thin, scratchy towel that was for his use and stumbled into the bathroom. With a sigh he turned the shower on to a warm setting and stepped in, quickly lathering up and washing his hair and washing the stale sweat and grime from his body. Once washed and dried he pulled on his clean clothes - these were more of Dudley’s cast offs, and just as large, so they swamped Harry’s small frame.

With a sigh he quickly wiped down the bathroom, removing all trace of his presence, before heading down to the kitchen. In there he found his pin board with a list of chores pinned to it. To his eternal surprise he also found a plate with two slices of toast and a slightly brown banana with a note.

“Boy, eat this, it’s all you’ll be getting today but we can’t have you fainting, you'd be even less use than you are now. Mind those chores are done before Vernon gets home,” he read in his aunt’s precise script.

He practically inhaled the food, the first he’d had in three days, so he quickly felt rather full. He followed it with a glass of cool water too, and felt like it was a fine breakfast, all things considered. Reading over the chore list he mentally sorted them into groups so they could be done as efficiently as possible and save some time. The bathroom was already cleaned, so that left dusting and vacuuming throughout upstairs, same downstairs, scrub kitchen, mow lawn, scrub patio, weed flowerbeds and driveway and polish the door fittings.

Since no cleaning had been done for several days while he was locked away, it took Harry longer than usual to get everything done and it was already 3pm by the time he got outside to start on the chores there. With only three hours left before everyone would be arriving home he paused to check out the fridge for leftovers. Cautiously Harry managed to remove a small amount of cheese, some slightly stale bread, some wilted lettuce and another brown banana that was buried near the back. He hid them carefully in his cupboard – making sure they were well out of reach of his large uncle should he try to search the space. He also refilled his plastic bottles just in case they were needed again.

Outside he worked as fast as he could, occasionally grabbing a quick drink from the hose as the sun was blazing and the yard was proving to be a heat trap. He could see the plaque out front of the house announcing that they were the winners of the annual gala, and that Petunia’s garden was to be opened to the public at the weekend for high tea and a talk on gardening tips by Petunia and a local gardening expert who had been on the judging panel. Rolling his eyes Harry muttered to himself as he carefully watered and weeded the flowerbeds.

“First step to having a healthy, luxurious garden kept in pristine condition is to find yourself an orphan, preferably a relative that you can convince you are helping out of the ‘goodness of your heart’. Then work said orphan from the age of four, teach them to read and then only allow them botanical books and seed packets apart from the odd cook book. Make them work the garden every single day until their hands are ready to fall off and then take credit when your snobby friends praise you,” he grumbled, viciously pulling out the weeds.

He was just finishing his final chore - scrubbing the patio - when he heard Vernon’s car pulling into the driveway. Harry gulped. He wasn’t quite done - he still had to put the brush and bucket away and tidy the tools up a bit, but it was always a delicate balance with his family. If he was finished and back in his cupboard when then got home then they assumed they had made his day too easy, but if he wasn’t in his cupboard when they got home he was deemed lazy and faced some form of punishment.

Apparently today was his lucky day and Vernon took a few minutes to finish fussing with his car so that Harry was just opening his cupboard door as the front door opened.

“Boy, have you finished your chores?” Vernon growled, scowling at the small boy.

“Yes Sir,” Harry replied, “I’ve just finished tidying the tools away Sir.”

“Very well, get on with dinner then. Petunia and Dudley will be home in half an hour, and I want food on the table by then. Make sure you make plenty - Dudders will be hungry, they never feed him enough for lunch at that useless camp.” With that, Vernon stomped into the lounge and settled in front of the TV with a whisky.

Harry sighed and closed the cupboard door, heading back to the kitchen. With practiced ease he got the various pans he needed out and started cooking chicken in a rich creamy mushroom sauce with steamed vegetables and creamed potatoes. It was one of his regular ‘stand-by’ dishes that he could make quickly and easily at short notice. He stirred the sauce and wondered why today was different. Wednesdays were normally ‘take-out night’ with Vernon stopping for either Indian or Chinese on the way home from work. As it was he only just managed to get the food cooked in time and was just putting it into the serving dishes as Petunia and her son came in the door. He hurried to put the bowls on the dining table and was back in the kitchen tidying up by the time they had shed their coats and cleaned up.

“Dad? What’s the Freak doing cooking? Tonight’s take-out night and I want pizza!” Dudley whined as he spotted the covered dishes.

“Well Dudders,” his father said with a smirk, starting to serve the food for the family “Rather than give the boy two nights off from his duties this week I thought he could cook tonight instead of tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow dear?” Petunia looked confused, they never ate out on a Thursday.

“Well, I’ve only managed to get an award and a promotion at work and we’ve been invited to dine with the company Director at the Savoy!” Vernon flushed with pride. “So we are leaving early in the morning to go to London and buy new clothes, have a bit of a look around, and then spend the afternoon and the evening with Mr Vickers and his family.”

“Oh darling!” Petunia gushed. “It’s about time they took notice of how much you do for that company! Oh I’m so proud of you!”

Dudley merely grunted, pleased at the idea of a day trip to London. It wasn’t going to stop him shovelling his heavily loaded plate of food down his throat as fast as humanly possible though. In the kitchen Harry was silently rejoicing, this meant he would have another full day to himself - he would be able to do whatever he liked after his chores were done and they would be none the wiser since it was highly unlikely they would be back before ten or eleven in the evening.

“Well Vickers was impressed by our family dynamic,” Vernon bragged. “He heard about the gala and apparently you know his sister-in-law from your WI meetings. She was impressed by your work raising money for the NSPCC last year, and he thinks a man with my family values should be advancing in the company. Always said he was a good man.”

In the kitchen Harry was vibrating with a mix of anger and disbelief. His uncle was getting promoted because of his ‘family values’? What a joke! Just like all those ‘good deeds’ his aunt had done in the name of raising money for the ‘National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children’ when they had him at home.

It was only recently that he had truly begun to accept that what his family did to him was abuse. Ever since he could remember he had been called ‘Freak’ and reminded that they didn’t want him and that he was just a burden, and he had believed it for years.

Until he went to school he had no idea that his name was Harry and it wasn’t until he left infants for juniors that he discovered just how abnormal his life really was.

They had a video shown in class explaining about abuse and how to spot it as part of a national campaign to protect children.

Harry hadn’t seen much unusual about the treatment shown, and thought actually it wasn’t as bad as he had it sometimes – ok he didn’t get beaten every day but he would rather get beaten and fed than the gnawing hunger.

The one thing the video made him grateful for though, was that at least he didn’t get ‘touched’ like the video said sometimes could happen. Harry shuddered at the thought of any of his family touching him like that and was, for the first time, grateful that they were disgusted by him.

Of course he had spoken to his teacher about his living conditions after the video had opened his eyes, and she had been horrified by what he told her, but nothing had ever came of it. His aunt and uncle had convinced them that he was lying for attention because he was jealous and spiteful - a ‘problem boy’ they were trying to be understanding of since the poor dear had lost his family so young, but it was just so hard when he always threw their kindness back into their faces.

Their blatant lies had only served to further convince Harry that the way they treated him was wrong - why would they lie about his treatment if it was acceptable for 'normal people' to treat kids like this? 

After that the teacher never believed him again, and readily believed his inattention and poor homework were due to ‘laziness’ rather than exhaustion and lack of time thanks to his permanently long list of chores, and that the bruises were from being ‘clumsy’, and not from his cousin’s bullying or the occasional beating from his uncle. Because the interview had been just before the Easter holidays Harry had had two weeks to recover from the beating he had as punishment for telling and he had learnt another important lesson. Adults will believe each other and he couldn’t trust them to help him, ever - asking for help only brought more pain.

Once the family was finished eating Harry finished washing up the last of the dishes, sneaking a few mouthfuls of the delicious food as he went. His aunt and uncle were so excited about the following day that they completely ignored him and Dudley was already upstairs on his new Sega playing a game.

Harry managed to eat nearly a full meal as he scrapped the last leftovers into the bin, and then washed up before heading to his cupboard. A quick detour also had his light bulb retrieved and back in his ‘room’ and he was able to read. Deciding now was the best time, with his relatives settled in front of the TV with a drink and in a good mood, Harry approached the lounge door and knocked quietly.

“What is it boy?” his uncle asked, not quite as vicious as usual.

“The kitchen’s clean again, I was wondering if I could use the bathroom and go to bed please?” Harry kept his tone as even and polite as possible despite his anger.

“Fine boy - but I want you up early. We need a good breakfast before we go out tomorrow,” his uncle warned, waving him off.

With a small sigh Harry shook off his emotions as much as he could, and went and saw to his night time toilet before heading to his cupboard. He settled down with his book - why Dudley would throw away a story as fantastic as 'Arthur and his Knights' was beyond Harry, but then 'Dudders' was a prize imbecile - and nibbling on the food he'd hidden away earlier, he would keep it for an emergency but couldn’t risk it smelling and tipping off his family. His rebellions had been minor, sneaking food and his light source, but they gave him a sense of achievement and power so by the time he drifted off to sleep with the comforting light still on he was feeling quite content.

~#~

Lucius Malfoy was feeling rather smug.

It had taken him just under seven years but he had achieved what everyone had thought was impossible - he'd found a way to resurrect the Dark Lord from his half-life.

Lucius had been going through his Master’s hidden paperwork at his manor and found reference to horcruxes, which led him to do further research. A few lengthy discussions with his Master’s soul piece in the diary he'd been entrusted with, and Lucius had set his plan into motion.

Using an ancient ritual using a mixture of Roman and Nordic elements to recall a wandering soul and tie it to a body, he then found a Runic Ring that he managed to interlock with the other elements to take the bone of a relative and blood of an innocent to create a new body for the soul to bind to. Because the free soul fragment was so badly damaged one of the horcruxes was also necessary to make the soul strong enough to bind to the body.

He selected the cup horcrux to be sacrificed, since his Lord has created it at his most magically powerful and stable, making it the best way to return him to his former terrible glory.

Lucius hadn't known him at that age, and seeing him now he was mesmerised - as were both his wife and Severus. They could not keep their eyes off the handsome figure before them.

Lord Voldemort had, at the time of his presumed demise, become a figure twisted and deformed in the most monstrous of ways - the result of several failed attempts at spells and rituals promising immortality to the caster. Now he was once again a young man - younger than Lucius, even. Barely older in appearance than Severus in fact. He was darkly handsome, and charm oozed off him as it once must have in his days as a charismatic and young Dark Lord. His dark hair was wavy and swept back from a lean face with piercing green/blue eyes and finely sculptured cheeks. His lips were well shaped, though a little on the thin side, and his jawline was clearly defined. It was easy to see how he had been able to gather so many people to his cause - between his looks and charisma he was magnetic.

“Lucius, you are most remarkable… I must thank you for returning me to my body,” Voldemort tipped his head towards his follower briefly as he spoke. “However we have much to discuss. I am aware several years have passed since my fight with the Potters. During this time several… revelations… have come to light that I cannot trust to anyone but you three...”

“My Lord,” Severus bowed his head towards Voldemort, “the magical world has been in turmoil since you have been gone. The Light have been scouring the land and arresting everyone they suspect of being Dark and throwing them in Azkaban, often without trial. Sirius Black was blamed for betraying the Potters and murdering Pettigrew and is also in Azkaban. His brother Regulus has disappeared, and the Lestranges were locked away for torturing the Longbottoms into insanity.” 

Voldemort frowned and considered this. There was obviously much more to cover but it at least explained why Rebastan and Rodolpus Lestrange were not present as two of his most trusted advisors. He was also still feeling a little off kilter due to the after effects of the ceremony - there had been some rather unexpected side effects.

“Tell me Severus, Lucius… why did you work so hard to bring me back?” He held a hand up to stop them interrupting. “I am well aware that by the time you both joined my cause I had become somewhat… vehement… in my cause and quite…fanatical. In fact very different to when I started out on my political path.”

“My Lord… I was an angry youth, and had been hurt badly by several people I thought cared about me. Combined with that I had researched your goals from the beginning and I saw merit in them. Although you were considered somewhat radical it was before the war had actually started and as a youth I only heard and read what I wanted to.” Severus Snape replied choosing total honesty rather than half-truths. It was a risk, but something about his Lord's question made him think it worth it.

“I followed my father, he spoke of your inspiring speeches and ideals from your youth My Lord,” Lucius offered. “He was totally charmed by your beliefs, although I know he was worried by the changes that occurred over the years.”

Both men looked worried by how honest they had been, it went against their normal practice to be so open, especially when it left one so vulnerable.

There was something in Voldemort’s eyes that compelled them to be totally honest though - his expression held something that they could not name, something they had never before seen there.

Narcissa merely held her husband’s hand and remained silent and supportive. Her opinion would be called for in due course but as she was not a marked Death Eater she knew that this part of the conversation was not the reason she had been requested to accompany them.

“It came to my attention after I lost my body that there had been several… alterations… made to both my mind and magical core without my consent,” Voldemort said, raising an eyebrow at the group’s shocked expressions. “However due to the damage I received when losing my body and the spell damage both my spirit and core received I am unable to determine exactly what happened, how it happened and who was responsible. I have suspicions of course, but no proof and as yet I am still having… difficulties.”

Voldemort sipped at the drink a house elf had delivered when they first arrived in the comfortable lounge they were meeting in, and frowned as he noticed the minor tremors in his hands. They worsened as his eyes flashed red, but with effort he was able to pull the rage and insanity back.

“Severus, I need you to find a mind healer you can trust and bring them to me. I need you to provide me with some potions, and we will find a way to remove these… shackles… in full. Then we will find the perpetrator and destroy them and their family line for this travesty.”

“My Lord?” Lucius began, uncharacteristically nervous, “these… alterations… are they why you changed your actions and attitude over the years? And used the… ah… incentives… that you did on your followers?”

The blonde held himself rigid refusing to flinch away from the rage he saw in his Master’s eyes. They had once again flashed red, the same red that they had always been in his later years, and it was obvious that Voldemort wished to crucio Lucius or worse, and the only things stopping him at the moment were his lack of a wand and his cast-iron control.

The liberal use of curses to torture his followers for any perceived failure or even when he was in a bad mood had become legendary over the last decade or so of his rule, and in the end he had even resorted to using the imperious to ensure that his less willing people would commit the travesties he now wanted them to perform. As his mental stability had deteriorated so had his control and his attacks had become more violent by the day.

They spent a couple more hours talking about events that had happened over the past seven years and listing followers that had been imprisoned, killed or fled the country, and how others had remained free.

Severus and Lucius stayed awake long into the night, they had much to do if they were going to help their Lord recover his strength and sanity. For several years during his rule they had worried about his mind but his control had been absolute and they had been horrified by how different the man’s doctrine was to what they had been told by his original followers that had recruited them. There was something going on here and they were determined to find out exactly who was trying to control their Lord and how many other people had they affected as well?

~#~

Harry was once again sat in the dark – his light bulb once again confiscated. This time his crime was scoring better on a maths test than Dudley, to be fair that was about as hard as scoring better than a tub of ice-cream – which his ‘poor, poor cousin’ was currently eating a pint of to console himself after that ‘Mean Freak’ had humiliated him today.

As he sat shaking in the dark Harry was furious, at both himself and his ‘family’, at himself because of his phobia of the dark – he thought he should be used to it by now and hated the self-perceived weakness – and at his family for putting him in this situation again, punishing him for simply being himself.

He held his hand out in front of him, vainly trying to see any part of an outline or different shades in the dark. He just wished for any glimmer of light to relieve the unrelenting darkness surrounding him, pressing in on all sides and making it hard to breathe.

With a yelp he shook his hand as it started to glow with a soft blue light, the shimmer barely highlighting his fingers to start with. He soon realised that it didn’t hurt and he stared in awe as the glow grew to encompass his entire hand. Squeezing his eyes shut he concentrated.

“I wish my hand glowed enough to see by, make it glow! Make it glow!” he whispered to himself, putting all his hope into the quiet plea.

Opening his eyes he was astonished – the glow was now bright enough to see the entire cupboard by, not quite as bright as his bulb but a good thirty watts! This was amazing, this was the first time he’d made his ‘freakishness’ do what he wanted it to and make it do something to help him. For the next hour he practiced changing the intensity of the light and even how much of his hand lit up. Each time it got easier and easier – even letting him turn it ‘off’ and ‘on’ again several times.

Smiling, Harry snuggling down under his threadbare blanket, he felt unbelievably secure now that he knew he would never have to spend another night locked in the pitch black confines of his cupboard again – he would always have the warming comfort of a light.


	2. The Zoo

  
Author's notes: Harry visits the zoo and the consequences  


* * *

Harry was startled awake as the stairs over his head shuddered, small flakes of wood and dust fell down on top of him and it felt like an earthquake. With a groan he sat up and wondered what on earth was so important that his cousin was up this early. It wasn’t even 8am yet and during the summer holidays it was almost unheard of to see Dudley before 11am. Reaching for his glasses and pulling his clothes on as quickly as he could, Harry opened the cupboard door just in time to hear his cousin shout.

“C’mon Freak! Hurry up! I want pancakes and syrup and bacon and eggs and toast and milkshake for breakfast, it is my birthday y’know and that means it’s important” Dudley yelled “Mum! Dad! The Freak hasn’t got breakfast ready and I want to open my presents!”

Harry sighed and pushed his anger as deep as he could, Dudley was the one person other than his Uncle Vernon that could make him want to lose his temper but the consequences just weren’t worth it. He had forgotten that today was his cousin’s birthday – they both turned eleven this month. With a few economic movements Harry soon had breakfast cooking and he smirked to himself as he felt his power surround him.

Over the last three years he had secretly been learning to control his ‘freakishness’ in small ways, teaching himself to use it to help him. Sometimes it went wrong and he was noticed and got punished but more and more his ‘wishes’ were working properly and he was able to use it to avoid any major problems. His wishes helped him cook better and quicker and strangely even helped him hide portions of food so he was eating better and looking a lot less sickly and frail.

He was learning easier and quicker at school – though he still had to hide the fact – and was avoiding getting caught by Dudley and his gang more so he was bullied less. The fact that he never had to go without the soft glow of a nightlight in his cupboard meant he was sleeping better and was more rested and able to keep up with his schoolwork and chores better too. He still thought the best benefit though was he was doing better at evading Dudley’s ‘pranks’ and that meant he hadn’t broken any cups and glasses for ages or spilled any food or drinks so on the whole he was generally avoiding punishments.

The downside was as his confidence grew he sometimes forgot himself and ‘talked back’ to Uncle Vernon. This would cause his uncle to go purple in the face and a particularly nasty punishment to happen. Even Dudley rarely got away with ‘cheek’ though his punishments were being denied a treat, not a thrashing followed by being locked up outside or in the shed for a night or two.

As Harry was getting older Vernon seemed to think his punishments needed to grow in severity. Thankfully Petunia was a little more reasonable – or at least unwilling to deal with a child that needed hospital – and would allow him enough water and food to prevent medical interference, even when he was being punished. On occasion she had even slipped him antiseptic cream and painkillers as well as extra food though her care was sporadic and generally centred around Halloween or April.

He knew he had been left with the Dursleys on November 1st so he assumed his parents had died around then – Vernon complained that November 1st 1981 was the day his life was ‘ruined because his Freaky Nephew was dumped on them without even a by your leave’ and reminded Harry of this on an almost weekly basis. Over the last year he had managed to snoop in some of Petunia's files and found references to Lily Evans and a newspaper clipping about Lily marrying James Potter - so he had his mother's name for the first time. Further searching showed her birthday as the 9th of April.

With these extra pieces of information Harry was fairly certain that Aunt Petunia's random bursts of apparent conscience coincided with his mother's birthday and the anniversary of her death. Maybe his Aunt had loved his sister once though even at ten-nearly-eleven Harry knew it would be suicidal to ask her what had changed. At least now he had their names he could try find out more details on his rare trips to the library, they had news archives that were free to access and he would be able to look up the reports of the accident if nothing else.

As Harry finished Dudley’s special breakfast along with the usual toast, bacon and eggs for his Aunt and Uncle he made his plans. The family normally went to a theme park or wherever for Dudley’s ‘special day’ and either left him to his own devices, left him with a list of chores or left him with Mrs Figg over on Magnolia Crescent. Harry hoped that today would be either on his own or with Mrs Figg as he planned to head to the Library again as soon as he could, previous trips had turned up no trace of his parents in any of the local papers or those for nearby towns. 

He hoped he found what he was looking for soon as the Librarian was starting to give him funny looks having noticed that when he came in it was for a full day and he never left for lunch, simply reading quietly for hours on end then leaving – not to say he only read the news archives – he also studied and read for pleasure, pleased to have the chance to do so.

Taking the opportunity while his relatives were busy eating their expansive meal Harry quickly ate the slightly dry bread from the end of the loaf, a banana and a glass of milk, finishing just in time to take their dishes and clean them before getting reprimanded for laziness. Half listening to Dudley’s excited chatter he mainly focussed on staying out of the way and being ignored as Petunia went to the phone, with a mental sigh he realised she was calling Mrs Figg.

“Oh hello Mrs Figg, it’s Petunia Dursley here. I do apologise for calling so early but I need to ask a favour. It’s my Dudder’s birthday today and we were planning on taking the boys on a fantastic outing to the zoo, the whole family you know? But Harry has a tummy ache and it’s just not fair to take him but poor Duddikins can’t miss out on his special day! It’s all paid for... can you take Harry for the day?... You can’t?...why ever not?...oh you poor dear!...no of course you can’t look after him. Well feel better soon. Bye!” Petunia rang off with a scowl and joined Vernon in the lounge.

“What’s wrong Pet?” he asked, worry colouring his features.

“That Figg woman!” Petunia half screeched “she can’t take the boy, she’s fallen and broken her arm the stupid bint and now she knows we’re going out so we can’t just leave him”

“Well what are we going to do with him?” Vernon was flustered “I’ve had today booked for weeks, I can’t have any more time off, not with that holiday to Spain you want as well in the Autumn”

"We'll just have to take him - maybe we can leave him in the car or just let him roam on his own so we don't have to put up with his freakishness for the day" Petunia sniffed, scowling at Harry who was trying to appear as small as possible as he wiped down the breakfast table.

“Oh bloody hell, the things I have to put up with because of that freak” Vernon grumbled “Very well, let’s get going or we’ll get stuck in traffic for hours, it’ll be bad enough as it is”

Harry tuned out the rest of the moaning and grumbling as his mind raced. On one hand he wouldn’t be able now to go to the library for the foreseeable future, on the other hand he had never been on one of Dudley’s outings and the zoo sounded amazing and there was no way he would ever have another opportunity to go.

Deciding to make the best of it Harry quickly popped into his cupboard and changed into his ‘best’ clothes normally reserved for school – they were the closest in fit and had the fewest scuffs and rips – and grabbed his small, tatty backpack with sketchpad and pencils that he had rescued when Dudley had thrown them out in a fit of anger. Despite needing a full change and gathering his things Harry was still the first ready so he dared a hurried trip to the bathroom and went to the toilet and washed up knowing that his relatives would only stop en route if Dudley demanded it and never for him. At the last second he grabbed two of his bottles of water and stowed them in the bag too as it was unlikely he’d be eating today.

After much wailing and moaning from Dudley who was very indignant about his cousin joining them on their outing and various last minute panics and demands they finally got on the road a good hour behind schedule. Stopping to pick up Dudley’s best friend Piers Polkiss along the way only made the journey even more insufferable for Harry.

Both Dudley and Piers were eating vast amounts of sweets and taunting the smaller boy who was huddled against the door and trying vainly to stay out of their way as they tried to come up with more and more gruesome ways to murder him on the trip.

“How about… how about right, we drop ‘im in the lion’s pit? They’ll eat ‘im right up they will” Piers suggested, smirking.

“Nah” Dudley replied, looking sideways at his pale cousin “I reckon chuck him in the snake tank, they squeeze their food til its eye’s pop out – what d’ya think? Pop-out-Potty?”

The obnoxious boys were soon rolling about laughing so hard their sides hurt and they spilled most of their sweets. Harry held himself as small and quiet as he could knowing that if he angered his cousin or uncle and got smacked he would definitely be relegated to the car for the day as they wouldn’t risk taking him in public with marks showing. It was already warm and that was with the fans on, there was no way Harry wanted to be shut in the car’s stuffy confines for a full day! Instead he focussed on stealing as many of the fallen sweets as he could without being noticed, by this point not even noticing the familiar tingle as he ‘wished’ to go undetected.

Due to the various delays and Vernon's horrendous driving they arrived at the zoo over two hours late after being stuck in slow moving traffic with everyone getting more and more frustrated. As usual Harry was getting all the blame for every problem going but he refused to let it get too him. Simply being this far from Privet Drive was an adventure of immense proportions for him and in contrast to the bland cookie cutter neighbourhood in Little Whinging - London was glorious, multi-coloured, noisy, semi-organised chaos.

Harry just kept silent and kept his head down as they finally made it into the zoo itself. The queues had been quite long as it turned out they were visiting on the day the new reptile house was opening and it was proving to be very popular. The zoo was already full of children running about with the free snake and lizard cardboard masks in place or holding various toys from the gift shop.

Almost before they had fully entered the park and past the people milling about the entrance reading their maps and discussing routes around or favourite animals there was a brewing argument in the Dursley party. Vernon wanted to give Dudley and Piers a fistful of money then go sit in the bar restaurant for the day, Petunia wanted to plan a route and stay as a family in case 'some horrible pervert' took the chaos as an opportunity to steal her 'poor little angel away' while Dudley and Piers wanted to run wild like the other kids and Dudley was insisting that he also needed an ice-cream this instant as it was so hot.

Harry was happy just to follow quietly and gape at the amazing sights that surrounded him. The happy families, the bright kiosks and shops with gifts and food and of course the amazing animal enclosures and their occupants. He was desperately hoping to be told to 'make himself scarce' and just meet them back at the car at closing time though another side of him niggled that he should stay close or he would be abandoned here as an ideal opportunity to 'lose' him forever.

In an attempt to keep the peace Petunia sent Vernon off to the bar while she took the boys off to the ice cream kiosk. There she ordered large cones for Dudley and Piers and sniffed in disgust when the attendant gave one to Harry too assuming her order was for all three boys that accompanied her.

As soon as they were out of shot Petunia turned to her nervous nephew.

"I don't know what you did to get that, boy, but mark my words I'll be telling Vernon about your trickery. I paid just because you'd already had your filthy hands on it but I won't spend a penny on you at lunch so you'd better be happy you got that!" she hissed quietly so other visitors didn't hear.

"Of course Aunt Petunia" Harry nodded "Thank you very much for the ice cream"

He licked it slowly at first, savouring every taste as he had never had one before, seeing Dudley had finished his though and Piers was also almost done Harry decided he ought to speed up. He started eating his ice-cream as fast as he could but was still only just over half way through when Dudley ‘accidentally’ knocked into him roughly and caused the frozen dessert to fall off the cone.

“Oops!” Dudley cried out in fake shock “So sorry Harry, you should ask mum to buy you a new one… oh yeah she won’t cos you’re a good for nothing Freak”

Harry stared at the fallen treat sadly before eating the remaining part and the cone before hurrying after his aunt. He’d decided it wasn’t worth being left behind and he was going to stick close to them all day, even if it meant putting up with the taunts and sneers from his cousin and Piers.

They marvelled at the tigers in their leafy enclosure, stunned at how well the orange and black cats could blend in with their surroundings, shuddering in childish glee as they watch Raja as he lunged at a suspended beef leg and gnawed on the meat. 

After the tigers there were lions and leopards and other big cats, then the apes and monkeys, then the giraffes and elephants and so on. Harry was in absolute awe though he was also slightly sad to see such magnificent animals in captivity, at least until he read the information on how London Zoo was part of a worldwide conservation project breeding these amazing animals to protect them and bolster wild populations.

Finally they were ready for lunch and headed over to the bar restaurant that Vernon had spent the morning in, they had arranged a party table there for Dudley and it came with the meals, cake, party favours and a few gifts included – for the guests as well as the birthday boy. Harry sat quietly in the corner and tried to just stay out of his uncle’s line of sight as Dudley and Piers started to tell him all about the animals they had seen.

The waitress came and took their orders, not seeing Harry in the corner, which suited Petunia and Vernon just fine. However when she came back with the drinks she suddenly realised there was a third boy at the table and was astonished that nobody had drawn her attention to him before.

“Oh I’m sorry Hun!” she gasped, staring at the thin, quiet boy with pity in her eyes “I didn’t see you back there, what can I get for you?”

“He doesn’t want anything” Vernon snapped, flushing red “He…ah… didn’t bring any money and… umn… I don’t have any left” he blustered as the waitress just looked at him in shock.

“Well you’re in luck Sir” she managed a bright smile “As the package you prepaid for covers up to five guests so this lil’ guy’s meal will also be free, as are any drinks he orders, so what would you like to eat and drink Hun?” she smiled at Harry warmly.

“Umn…” he looked up through his fringe shyly, nervous due to the quiet rage he could feel coming off his uncle “Water please… and some chips?”

“OK Hun” the waitress replied, supressing the urge to glare at the rest of the birthday party “I’ll be right back”

She came back with a tall, cool glass and handed it over to Harry and let them know their food would be following shortly. Harry was shocked at his first tentative sip through the straw showed it to actually be lemonade, the waitress had obviously figured out he wanted a flavoured drink from his longing looks but found a way to hide the fact from his aunt and uncle. When the food came he had another pleasant surprise, his plate had a huge mound of perfect, golden chips and a large side salad full of beautiful fresh greens and a few hidden slices of ham. As all the other dishes also had a side salad the Dursleys and Piers didn’t pay any attention to Harry having a salad on his plate and were soon ignoring him in favour of eating their own feast of pizza, lasagne, pie and battered cod that all came with their own chips in addition to the greens.

Harry ate as quickly as he could manage knowing that this would likely be the last time he saw food for several days. He had already had most of an ice-cream and now this! But he also realised that his uncle was convinced that Harry had embarrassed him in front of the waitress and drawn attention away from Dudley. The drinks that Vernon had slowly but surely been drinking all morning had him ruddy and more aggressive than usual which made these infractions see far more significant than normal to him and he was determined to ‘put the boy in his place’ one way or another.

After the main meal a huge chocolate cake came out, covered in candles. Dudley of course wasn't impressed and just demanded the biggest slice. Harry in complete contrast was awed by the cake but after a glance at his uncle's face warned him of the man's dire mood and Harry declined politely, claiming to be far to full. The waitress looked at him sympathetically, she could tell there was something severely wrong here but there was nothing she could do. No-one would listen to a waitress about suspected child abuse, she didn't even know if the boy belonged to the family or was just a party guest being treated poorly.

When it came to giving out the gift bags she made sure Harry's bag had a second slice of cake hidden at the bottom underneath the balloons and paper padding. Dudley's bag contained a large plastic model snake, one of the nicer models from the new gift shop. Piers had a model tiger crouched as if ready to pounce. Harry opened his gift eagerly, it was the first present he remembered receiving, inside was a beautiful sketchpad with pencil set that came with an information booklet that contained photos and facts about many of the zoo animals.

Harry loved it, it was something that Dudley was unlikely to want and therefor unlikely to try to steal, hopefully he would find it boring enough that he wouldn't even try to damage it out of spite. He carefully put them back in the bag and held it protectively. It was after this that the meal was officially over and he could hope that the zoo's further delights would allow everyone to forget that he actually had something.

Leaving Vernon at the bar again the rest of the group headed into the reptile house. With the post lunch lull the zoo was a bit quieter as everyone was resting in the shade or just watching their children in the play area.

Dudley and Piers were immediately running around the large glass enclosures, leaning up against the glass and smearing them with sticky smudges from their hands that still bore traces of the chocolate cake. Harry stuck close to his aunt and was quiet and still, looking into each vivarium with curiosity as she passed the,

Another woman entered the same area with two young children that also stayed with her, she stood by Petunia and sniffed as she watched Dudley and Piers stumble into another viewing window.

"Oh goodness!" she said "Where's the guardian with those little hooligans?! They should be ashamed.... at least your little one is being well behaved. That big lad could learn a few lessons from this one"

With that she smiled to a tight faced Petunia and went on to the next zone with her own children. Harry wished as hard as he could that his aunt would ignore him and once again he felt that warm tingle surround him. 

Petunia just shook her head and glared after the woman, her face becoming even more pinched as she called Dudley and Piers over to her, giving them moist napkins to clean up with.

"How dare that...that harpy!" she spluttered to herself "Just because Dudders and Piers are lively boys and not mindless robots like her brainless little brats... what right does she have to insult them?"

She led the boys into the large snake room which held several types of python, boas and an anaconda. Harry was fascinated by the emerald tree boa that was draped over a huge branch. The glistening green scales and large yellow eyes made him look almost alien and Harry ached to reach out and touch the scales.

"Mum! The snakes are boring, can we go back to the lizards?" Dudley whined "They don't even move"

Harry moved on to the Burmese Python, the second largest snake in the room. As he watched the snake came closer and reared up, staring into Harry's eyes.

"I know how you feel" the scruffy haired boy said "Trapped in here, no escape and people always just wanting more from you. I bet you wish you could just get out of here don't you?"

"Hey Piers! Look... the Freak got that monster snake to move! Let’s go see" Dudley yelled and started charging towards Harry.

Harry heard them and turned as he saw both boys running full speed towards him and leant back against the glass, eyes closed in fear as he waited to be crushed - fear locking both his legs and his lungs so he was unable to flee.

Just as he expected the other boys to crush him Harry felt a sudden weightlessness and fell backwards, landing on a slithering mass of muscle. Dudley and Piers screamed and tried to change direction, ending up in a heap as they started babbling in terror.

Opening his eyes, Harry realised he was lying on the snake, the glass had vanished and due to him being pressed so hard against the front of the vivarium he had fallen a fair way inside when it had gone. The snake had coiled loosely around him and was looking down at him with those large catlike eyes, tongue flickering out as it hissed.

“Sssssmellssss like food, and fear…. Not food though sssssmellssss like magicsssss” it hissed, tone curious.

“I’m not food!” Harry hissed back "How can you talk? Snakes can't talk!"

"Ah Ssssspeaker" the Boa replied, tilting his head "Thanksssss for letting me out... be sssssafe"

Harry could only watch, completely baffled, as the snake slithered out of the enclosure and passed the screaming figures of Dudley, Piers and now Aunt Petunia who had caught up. More screams from the next room showed the boa had found more people and panic was spreading.

Once she was certain that Dudley was in fact safe and in one piece she turned on her hapless nephew.

"You...you worthless little freak! You should have died in that accident with your worthless parents? Why did I even take you in? Too soft hearted, that's why! Should have let Vernon take you to the Police or an Orphanage first chance, like he wanted. Come on, Dudders, Piers; let's go get Vernon and tell him what happened here and get you boys home"

With that she dragged Harry behind her, leading the other two gleeful boys as she headed to the bar. Summoning Vernon for a hushed conference, she shook Harry and watched as Vernon turned an alarming shade of purple.

"But Mum!" Dudley started whinging again "Me n' Piers wanna go to the gift shop! This sucks, the Freak always ruins everything!"

"Now now Duddikins, of course you may go to the shop, it's your special day, after all!" Petunia simpered. "Here you go now, find something nice to get over that nasty shock."

She pressed a handful of money into his pudgy hands, and the two boys ran off, shouting to each other about everything they were going to buy. Harry was left with his livid aunt and uncle. He clutched the bags from the party and various small bags from the gift kiosks around the zoo that his aunt had bought. He was terrified and knew that as soon as they got home he was going to get the worst punishment yet - even though he hadn't done anything wrong, he just knew they were going to blame him for ruining their trip and that this time, it was going to be bad.

As they ranted at him in hisses and lowered voices, trying to keep their faces reasonably bland as they were in public, their hands and bodies held carefully to avoid touching him even accidentally.

Once Dudley and Piers returned, heavily loaded with bags full to bursting with toys from the gift shop, the family headed to the car. As usual, Harry was made to carry almost all of the purchases and he made quite the sorry sight with his taped up glasses sliding down his nose, baggy clothes swamping his slight frame and carrying a mound of bags that almost matched him in size.

At the car, he stealthily slid the contents of his gift bag into his backpack - added one of his larger water bottles into the gift bag with the paper wrappings and balloons and things to add bulk and make it still look full. His years of sneaking around had encouraged a type of stealthy intelligence, and he smirked to himself as he turned to his uncle.

"Umn...Sir?" he asked quietly "Where should I put my bag?"

"Your bag?!" Vernon spluttered, once again turning puce. "You don't think after this fiasco that you'll be allowed to keep that gift, do you?!"

Vernon snatched the bag away and threw it into the nearest trash container, luckily not stopping to look inside and see the faked contents. The obese man smiled maliciously as he hustled his nephew into the car, his moustache bristling with self-satisfaction.

"That's the first part of your lesson boy" he said "But you'll be getting reacquainted with my belt when we get home, causing all this freakishness when we take you on a great day out - out of the goodness of our hearts I might add!"

Harry huddled in on himself as they headed home, ignoring Dudley and Piers as they came up with more and more outlandish punishments that they thought he should suffer. Dudley of course kept coming up with more and more elaborate tales about how Harry had tried to kill him using the boa and how the smaller boy should be locked away for life.

Back in Little Whinging, Harry was glad to see the back of Piers as he was dropped off, and a few short minutes later, they were home. He slowly trudged inside and unloaded all the bags, taking Dudley's toys up to his room and leaving Petunia's purchases in the kitchen, as he wasn't allowed to set foot in the lounge.

He slipped his backpack into the cupboard under the stairs and made sure he had as many bottles of water as he could find and fill, as it was unlikely he'd be seeing daylight anytime soon and he wanted to be prepared. A quick internal debate had him leaving his glasses there, too, as he wasn't sure just how many more times he would be able to repair them, and he knew from experience he flinched less when he couldn't see the blows coming, which reduced the number he got and how much they hurt.

That night, Harry was left alone; his family were all tired from their day out. He had been merely locked in his cupboard after being sent to the toilet, while his relatives all had a huge meal, as Dudley claimed to be starving after the first day of exercise he’d had in months. This led to Petunia worrying that her ‘darling’ would be wasting away before her eyes and feeding him a full dinner of pizza, chips, coke, ice cream and more cake.

The next morning was a tense affair for the dark-haired child. He cooked breakfast with shaking hands and, to his horror, broke two eggs and burnt a rasher of bacon. In his attempts to save the produce, he had also cut his hand and burnt his wrist, but from the look on his uncle’s face, that was not good enough. He served the food and fled back to his cupboard, not even cleaning the pans in his panicked state.

All too soon, he heard his uncle leave the dining table and go through to the kitchen looking for him, the angry exclamation letting the cowering boy know that the unwashed pots had been seen. Angry steps then came towards the hallway.

“Please don’t find me; please don’t look!” Harry wished frantically but no comforting tingle came through for him, this time.

“Boy!” Vernon roared as he ripped the door open. “How dare you disrespect us even more? Especially when you already have a punishment coming?”

He dragged the shaking boy into the hall and ripped his ragged t-shirt and shorts away, leaving him in just some dingy grey y-fronts that were also far too large on his slim frame.

“We take you in when your freak parents kill themselves, feed you, clothe you, give you a roof over your head and this is how you repay us?! You try to murder my son with your unnatural ways, torture my wife through fear, try to drive me to an early grave, waste our food and money through clumsiness and throw our kindness back in our faces?! Well, no more, you ungrateful whelp!” Vernon had twisted Harry’s arm up high behind his back, ignoring the crying, struggling boy, even as something gave in his wrist with a snap, and the child choked out a shocked cry.

“Oh no, you’re not getting away with your normal punishments this time, boy” Vernon growled with malicious glee, shifting his grip so Harry’s back was exposed. “I’m making sure you learn, this time; you’ll be learning respect and how to behave around your betters. You are nothing, will always be nothing and deserve nothing. You exist only because you need to pay back what you owe, and I'll take one payment, now."

With that, Vernon proceeded to give Harry the worst beating in his life, not stopping when the belt drew blood and shredded the boy's delicate skin. Petunia had sent Dudley out while her husband was still shouting and stood in the kitchen, white faced and trembling, as Harry's screams turned to whimpers and gasps before becoming silent.

Harry gasped as the first stroke hit; it burned like ice fire from shoulder to hip, and he managed to keep quiet, apart from harsh gasps, right up until the sixth strike, when the belt broke his skin for the first time. After that, his screams got louder and harsher as he fought his uncle’s grip, choking out pleas for mercy whenever the huge man stopped for breath, praying for it to stop or for unconsciousness. His legs had given out very early on, but Vernon held him up to get his favoured angle. After what seemed like an eternity of unbelievable agony for the child, his body was finally merciful to him and allowed him the bliss of oblivion as he passed out from the pain and blood loss.

Vernon wiped his face and dropped the belt, looking down at the unconscious form in disgust; he then stomped up the stairs for a shower, panting and shaking from fatigue and left his nephew in a pool of his own blood on the hallway floor. As her husband went out of sight, Petunia hurried from the kitchen, covering her mouth in horror at the spectacle that greeted her.

The broken and almost still form of her nephew lay there, his thin back looking like mince-meat, shuddering breaths wracking his body at uneven intervals as the only sign of life. Gathering her supplies that she had prepared after sending Dudley out, Petunia quickly went to work, washing the blood from his back gently and quickly to try to reduce the extra suffering caused. Once clean, she smeared a thick layer of Aloe Vera gel over the wounds; it wasn’t the best treatment, but it was all she had at hand and was antibiotic. There was no way she could risk a doctor or pharmacist finding out what had happened. Once the wounds were dressed, she went to his cupboard; inside, she spread a shower curtain over his cot mattress and then laid him on it, positioning him so he couldn’t roll onto his back. Several bottles of fresh water were left by his head, and she left him, shaking her head in a mixture of distaste and distress.

She was just starting on cleaning the hall by scrubbing the carpet when Vernon came back down the stairs, flushed and with a disturbing glint in his eye.

“Now, Pet, you shouldn’t be doing that; wake the boy up, and make him clean his own mess up,” he said, looking pleased with himself. “I should think that’s the last of his nonsense we’ll be dealing with; I’ve taught him a proper lesson, now.”

“I would, dear, but he’s completely unconscious, and I don’t want this to stain. Don’t worry about it; mind, I will make sure he has plenty of extra chores to make up for it, once he’s well again, but he’s probably going to take a few days to get better,” Petunia ventured. “You were very… ah… thorough, dear, and he didn’t take it well.”

“Spoiled, that’s what he is,” Vernon blustered, moustache quivering. “A good spanking never caused any real harm. Don’t be letting him lie about too long, and mind he doesn’t get fed, if he doesn’t earn it!”

Petunia wrung her hands together as he went into the lounge and poured himself a large drink. She held no great liking for her nephew, barely even tolerated him, but she never deliberately caused him harm and merely ignored much of his neglect to avoid the guilt. This couldn’t be ignored, but at the same time, she had no way of contacting them, or he would have been sent back years ago. If only Lily hadn’t gotten herself caught up in all this unnaturalness, then this would never have happened.

~#~

When Harry woke properly, it was almost five days later. He had hazy memories of waking to drink and use the bucket and even of eating his cake from the zoo, but it was all jumbled with his waking nightmares about his uncle, flying motorcycles, a man with red eyes shouting and a woman screaming. There were even snippets of being chased by dogs and a man with a long grey beard who kept handing him over to Uncle Vernon for more beatings.

Occasionally, there had been blessed coolness, as his aunt has spread more ointment on his back and even held him, at one point, as he cried for his mother, shushing him with a curious mixture of comfort and scolding. For the first time ever in the Dursley’s household, Harry felt like someone cared whether he lived or died.

For Petunia, it was like a fragment of the wall around her heart was broken, and she could suddenly see Harry for who he was, rather than a burden and reminder of a jealous and spiteful past. She saw a little boy, a hurt child with no mother or father or anyone to love him. She had treated him well as a toddler, loving him and playing with him, teaching him alongside Dudley, even. That was before the first incident, though. When she had caught him floating toys around the room, she had screamed, and of course, that had set Dudley off crying. After that, it was never the same. She had feared the child, and Vernon had resented him and decided to ‘work the freakishness out of him’ by any means necessary. Petunia hadn’t realised just how bad things had become until she saw him broken and bleeding in the hall.

As Harry moved, pain lanced through his back, but the wounds didn’t reopen. His aunt’s care and his own innate magic had him healed to the point he could move – albeit slowly and carefully – without any further injury being caused. The green eyed boy was amazed at the care he had received but was too young to realise it was his aunt’s way of trying to make amends; he merely saw it as her trying to cover for his uncle and keep the episode from the neighbours.

Over the next few days, he allowed her to tend to him and feed him in secret, as he regained his strength and planned for the future. There was no way he could stay here, after the latest beating; he was now totally convinced that his uncle would kill him sooner or later.

He didn’t realise it, but his aunt was thinking along the same lines and trying to think what she could do to help him. She wasn’t a complete fool and knew that he would never truly trust her. Not yet at least, and although she was starting to see her husband in a new light, she had no desire to leave him and didn’t see why she should; after all, he was good to her and her child.

As it was, Harry woke feeling almost fully healed on the morning of July 18th, to a strange sight. By his bed lay a new backpack, much larger than his normal ratty one, with a note pinned to it, addressed to him in his aunt’s neat script.

‘Boy,’ he read, ‘I have packed this bag for you, it has clothes, food and money. You are no longer safe here. Go to the main town, find a policeman and say you are lost. Do NOT use your real name, do not say anything about us. With any luck, you’ll find a new home and never see us again. If anything goes badly wrong, you may write to me or just to let me know you are safe’

Harry was astounded; his aunt was helping him escape? He’d only decided for certain that he would run away, the day before. He had considered going to the police here and reporting his family, but he knew that he would get no-where with them. Vernon had too many friends in high places, and too many adults were already convinced that Harry was a lying, troublemaking, bullying child.

With a sigh, he looked around his cupboard and made sure he had everything. All his drawings, the precious few books and, of course, his treasured new drawing supplies had gone into his new rucksack. The night before his ‘punishment’ he had seen Dudley’s new toy snake in the bin and pilfered that, too, and as the only unbroken toy, it was packed carefully alongside his tattered blue baby blanket, the only gift left from his parents.

He waited until he heard the car leave so he knew he was definitely going to avoid his uncle before coming out of the cupboard. With a nod to his aunt, he stepped out of the front door, closing it carefully behind him and stepping onto the pavement. He had only painted the door a few weeks previously, so it was still looking crisp and clean, and that gave him a strange sense of satisfaction, a feeling that he was leaving with nothing unfinished. 

~#~

It was a long walk from Privet Drive to the main bus station in Little Whinging, around four miles or just over an hour in travel time for an eleven year old boy with a stuffed rucksack. From there, he was able to easily catch a bus to Greater Whinging and rest for a while, as the bus made its journey.

Once in the larger town, Harry stopped to make some plans. There was no way he would go to the police, as his aunt had told him; he couldn’t trust them to not put him somewhere even worse than the Dursley’s. He’d heard enough tales of orphanages and foster homes from his relatives, and the video about abuse at school had featured a boy in foster care being touched by his foster dad. So he was on his own.

First of all, he needed a disguise. That’s what they did in the books he read when ‘getting out of town’; they hid anything that made them easy to spot. In his case, that was easy; he just needed a hat to cover his scar and some better fitting clothes.

Checking his wallet that his aunt had given him, he could see she’d actually been pretty generous, considering she told him to go straight to the police. Maybe she had considered the possibility he wouldn’t, he wondered. He had just over forty pounds, as well as a supply of camping cereal bars that Dudley had wanted then didn’t like; enough for several days, if he rationed them.

A quick stop in a charity shop later, and he was able to hand in his far too large hand me downs from Dudley and buy a few new outfits that fit for just less than ten pounds. He had kept the coat that Petunia had given him, as it was fairly new and very good quality, despite being so big, and Harry thought that the extra room would be useful as a sleeping bag, nearly, if he decided to sleep rough.

With new clothes on and a baseball cap firmly in place, Harry set off for the train station. It was still only lunchtime, and he wanted to get as far as possible before finding somewhere to spend the night. In the ticket office, he looked at the various destinations in wonder; there were so many places to go! With a grin, he booked a single to London. There was a special offer on for the day, and he could get there for only £2 rather than the normal £4, and he wanted to preserve his money for as long as possible.

Once in Kings Cross, Harry was once again struck by the beautiful chaos of London. Everywhere, there were people in business suits, tracksuits, dressed as Goths and Punk Rockers, people on roller skates and people with boom boxes.

Wandering out of the train station, he just went where his senses led him, following the amazing sights, sounds and smells of the city. He wandered for hours, eventually coming to a part of the city that looked a little less well travelled, just off Charring Cross.

There, he saw the most amazing mix of people yet, and all of them were either entering or leaving the same dingy-looking pub. They wore supremely weird combinations of fashions from the Victorian period, 1970’s, a few in what appeared to be Regency Romance and even some in bizarre outfits that looked like over-large dressing gowns. 

Curious, Harry crept closer, sticking to the ever-growing shadows. Although the sun didn’t set until late in the summer, the shadows within the labyrinth of the city grew deep and cool by early evening. As the young boy edged nearer the pub, he squinted to read the sign.

“Leaky Cauldron?” he whispered to himself. “What sort of a name is that?”

Just then, the most appetising smell wafted towards him, as someone entered the bar. Harry’s stomach growled; a long day of walking around and the emotional turmoil had led to him being famished, despite the energy bars. He decided to venture inside and buy a meal; if anyone asked where his parents were, he thought he could just tell them he had to meet them after dinner.

As he slipped inside, he saw that the weird clothing was only the start of things, in this Aladdin’s cave. Inside was a joyful, noisy chaos filled with people in even more wondrous garb and eating the most delicious smelling food. Every now and then, the enormous fireplace suddenly flared green, and someone would step out of the flames, or in a few cases, step in and disappear!

Harry couldn’t believe his eyes and just gaped until the jovial man behind the bar greeted him, leaning on the worn counter as he polished the glass wear.

“Hey there, sonny,” he said, smiling warmly at the boy. “What can I do for you?”

“Um… hi,” Harry ducked his head, suddenly feeling very shy. “I…ah… could smell the food, outside? And… I’m hungry.”

He backed towards the door, a lot more nervous now he’d actually been noticed, eyes darting between Tom and a couple of patrons that were watching him. Tom saw how scared the young boy was and quickly set about calming him down.

“Now, lad, no need to be worried,” he said softly. “Come here, and let’s get summats in you, you look fair peaked.” 

He gently ushered the green eyed boy into a quiet corner near the bar and gave him a steaming bowl of stew with a fresh crusty roll of bread. Harry fell on it like a starving wolf and was soon using the bread to mop up the last of the gravy. No matter how delicious he found the hearty stew, though, he always kept a wary eye on the landlord and anyone else between him and the door.

Tom sighed, he saw runaways all too often in his trade - all too often children frightened by their magic and running away from the muggles. He simply kept his movements open and slow, as to not scare the boy, and gave him a large glass of milk and a slice of warm apple pie with cream, to follow the stew.

“There you go, lad, you’ll feel better with that in you,” he nodded as Harry began to eat, slower this time and savouring the taste of the food. “Once you’ve finished that, I’ll sort you out a room if you like, as you’ve likely noticed from the signs this ‘ere is an inn as well as a pub. You can stay the night and we’ll sort you out in the morning for somewhere more long term, alright?”

Harry stared up through his messy fringe, he’d turned his hat so the peak was at the back, so it didn’t impede his vision while he ate. He hadn’t been threatened in any way since getting here, and the food had been delicious. As he narrowed his eyes, considering the man - Tom, he reminded himself - the innkeeper spoke again.

“I know you’re worried, son; if it helps, all the rooms bolt from the inside, so no-one can get in, if you don’t want; not even me. You’re near dead on your feet, lad. Let me help?” Tom’s eyes were shadowed with a genuine sadness at the wariness the boy displayed.

“K…” Harry whispered, deciding it would be ok to trust him, for the night, at least. “Thanks, Mr Tom.”

“Ach, away wi’ ye,” Tom smiled. “It’s just Tom. Come on then, I’ll show ye to your room.”

~#~

After Tom had showed him the small room with en suite washroom Harry pretty much collapsed. Although he had started the day feeling like it was a grand adventure and initially had loved being back in London with its wild whirl of people and sights, sounds and noises, it had rapidly worn thin and he had realised just how alone he was.

Stumbling into the Leaky Cauldron had been an incredible stroke of luck and there was something about the man that felt safe. Harry had learnt to trust his instincts much of the time and they had often helped him escape his cousin and the rest of the bullying gang.

A quick wash later and Harry was snuggled down into the comfiest bed he could ever remember touching, never mind sleeping in. Despite the strange surroundings and his worries he was asleep in moments.

~#~

Tom sat nursing a steaming cup of coffee, a warming charm was all that kept it fit to drink as he’d been staring into it for over an hour. 

His eldest son, Jeremy, was minding the bar while Tom had a break and thought about the boy upstairs. Tom hadn’t even attempted to ask the lad’s name or any other details, he didn’t want to risk frightening to poor kid away.

He remembered his father bringing in waifs and strays from all over London, magical kids with nowhere to go all seemed to gravitate to the city. Tom’s father had always supposed it was the magical pull of Diagon Alley and the Ministry that attracted them.

Just after Tom left Hogwarts he had taken an opportunity to study runes in more depth and using that knowledge had covered a large portion of London in hidden runes, focussing around the main transport links. These runes formed a complex web that encouraged those with magical blood that felt lost or alone or scared to come to the Leaky Cauldron. They never felt compelled, it was simply a case of their wanderings eventually ended up there. 

Once in his pub Tom was able to give whatever help he could, whether it was a listening ear, a warm meal or in children like the waif upstairs’ case, help finding somewhere to accept them.

~#~

The following morning Harry woke slowly, initially confused by the warm and comfy bed he was in. It all came back to him in a rush and he suddenly remembered the strange pub with the oddly dressed customers, the bizarre green fire. 

He smiled as he remembered Tom, he was the first adult that Harry had felt completely comfortable with in a very long time and his calm friendliness had been a very welcome change. Thinking about the last twenty-four hours he quickly got dressed and headed downstairs, bag packed and ready to run just in case.

There he was greeted by Tom who made no comment about his bag and simply gave him a hearty bowl of porridge laced with honey and another glass of milk. Surprised by the fact he was still being treated well and not being questioned, Harry once again sat with his back to the wall and ate quickly, keeping an eye on his escape routes as he did so. As he finished eating Tom finally spoke.

“There we go lad. Now you’ve got that in you we can see about getting you some protection” Tom watched his flighty young guest carefully, making sure he didn’t scare him. “We can also get you checked over and make sure you’re ok, I guess they hurt you before? Well you’re safe now lad and we look after our own here, follow me and I’ll show you a world you never imagined.”

Seeing the sceptical yet scared look on Harry’s face at these words he went on to reassure him. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave these doors open and I’ll go first so you feel safe, you can always run back to your room or out into London if you feel you can’t trust me.” The landlord’s eyes were sympathetic “But this is the way to help, I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you”

Weighing his options Harry watched the man carefully. So far his instincts had been right and Tom had not hurt him in any way. With a decisive nod he stood and grabbed his bag ready to follow. At worst all he had to do was turn and run and his previous life had left him well equipped to do that.

A few moments later he was stood in the alley behind the pub, gazing in wonder as Tom opened the bricks themselves to reveal an entire hidden world. As his green eyes shone in wonderment Harry could only suppose that London was truly the most magnificent place on Earth and that this was only the beginning of his adventure


	3. Diagon Alley

  
Author's notes: Harry's summer in Diagon Alley  


* * *

Harry stared in amazement at the sight before him. If he had thought that London proper was a circus of strange colours, noises, sights and smells, then it was nothing on the street before him. A crooked cobblestone street with narrow gabled buildings that stood at incredible angles and hundreds of people in a myriad of colours, almost all in those strange overlarge dressing gown type garments that he had seen the day before.

He flinched as an arm suddenly came into his line of sight, as he turned into a crouch he realised it was just Tom waving him forward.

"S-sorry" he whispered, ashamed of his behaviour.

"Don't worry yourself, lad," Tom reassured him. "This here is Diagon Alley, the premier shopping district in Wizarding Britain. Now, there are other shopping areas, but this is the biggest."

"W-Wizarding Britain!" Harry's eyes opened wide in shock.

"Oh, of course, I didn't have chance to talk with you properly last night. You were nearly asleep in your pudding," Tom chuckled gently. "Those strange things you've been able to do? That no-one could explain and maybe got you in trouble? That's magic… and here it's perfectly normal. We can all do it, and we'll teach you how to control it, how to use it and all about our world."

As the thin boy looked at him with huge eyes brimming with emotion, a mixture of fear and hope, Tom smiled sadly. This look pretty much confirmed his presumptions that the boy had been singled out, if not outright abused, for his 'differences' and was afraid to hope there were others out there like him.

"Come on, lad. There's a friend of mine who can help you out. He can set you up with somewhere safe to stay long term and arrange for new clothes and the like, as well as lessons about our world." Tom watched Harry, gauging his reactions to make sure he wasn't too spooked by events. "Don't worry, you're safe now, and me and my friends look after those that need a helping hand. It'll be ok now."

With that, the pair went into the busy street, Harry sticking as close as he could to Tom without actually touching the man. He kept his eyes moving, cataloguing everything around him and looking for escape routes at all times.

'How did Tom know about the strange happenings?' He wondered, not realising of course, that all magical children had bouts of accidental magic, whether born in the wizarding world or not.

What Tom hadn't bargained on when bringing Harry to Diagon Alley today was the crowd. He had hoped to come early, but the poor kid had been exhausted and not woken until 10am. Add in some Parisian Witch celebrity shopping at Madam Malkins today, and the place was more of a circus than usual. His musings were interrupted by a quiet voice next to him.

"Mr Tom?" Harry asked shyly. "Why are you doing this? Helping me, I mean. No-one ever did before. You don't even know me!"

Tom stopped walking, turning to crouch down so he could look Harry straight in the eye. He wanted the nervous boy to see his sincerity and understand as well as he could.

"It's a perfectly reasonable question, son; it's pretty simple really. My family have owned the Leaky Cauldron for centuries, and it's protected Diagon Alley in one form or another since the Tudors were on the throne. Our family has always tried to protect those like you from the Muggles - that's what we call non-magical folk - if they are treated bad. Most wandering wizards and witches in Britain end up here in London, so it's just logical. Look, everyone needs a helping hand sometime, right? I figure it may as well be me as it was my father and his father and so on, and I've made some right grand friends doing it. The friend we're off to see today is one my dad helped when I was around your age."

Harry considered this, looking into Tom's eyes. He could see nothing but sincerity there, and it made sense. The pub guarded the entry into the alley and would put the landlord in the best place to help others. The boy was still wary though. Surely Tom would want something in return.

Tom could easily read the boy in front of him, his thoughts were running across his face as clear to read as a book. He stifled a chuckle as nearly every child in his experience had thought the exact same thing.

"Before you ask, lad, all you have to do to repay me is do well at school and, when the time comes, if you're able, maybe help another in need one day," he said, tilting his head slightly.

This gave the green eyed boy all the answers he needed for now, and he gave a sharp nod, willing to go along with the landlord for now, at least. They continued along the busy street. He had much to think about, and his head was swimming with all the new information, even as his stomach churned with the mixed emotions. Relief at knowing he wasn't alone with his abilities warred with resentment that no-one had helped him sooner or come to explain what had been happening. There was also still a churning sense of fear about the future and stepping into this new world and that nothing would really change, after all.

Unfortunately, just as Tom and Harry were distracted with their own thoughts on the evens of the last day, the Parisian Witch came out of Madam Malkins and the street was suddenly even more chaotic. Harry yelled as he was swept away by the crowd, and he lost sight of Tom, the only familiar face in the place.

Tom, for his part, was frantic. He couldn't see his young charge anywhere, and as he didn't know the boy's name, he couldn't shout for him. All he could do was wait for the crowd to thin out and then try finding the boy.

~#~

Harry sighed in relief, he was finally free from the bustling horde. The sudden sweep of people had been terrifying, especially when he was hustled along by the flow of humanity against his will.

He had broken free just outside a magnificent building finished in gleaming white marble. Curious, he decided to go look inside. There was no way he could find Tom until the crowd died down, after all. Inside was fairly empty of people, as they had all rushed out to see the celebrity on display. However, there were curious creatures with sharp features, large ears and severe pinstripe suits moving around the place.

Harry gasped at the sight of them as he had never seen anything so unusual before. To his surprise, one of them came over and spoke to him.

"Good morning. My name is Griphook. What business brings you to Gringotts today?" he asked.

"I...ah...umm" Harry stuttered, looking at the floor.

"Well? Do you need something, or did you come to stare and laugh, like most horrible children?" Griphook growled, obviously upset by Harry's reaction, though Harry could see a hint of something deeper in his eyes - hurt, maybe?

"I-I'm sorry, S-sir" Harry stammered, shocked that he had hurt the creature before him. "I...I've never been here before. It... It's amazing! I hope I didn't upset you?"

Griphook stared. He had been working in the bank his entire adult life and had never had a wizard of any age apologise to him before. Now he looked properly, he could see the child before him did indeed look lost and completely over-awed.

"It's perfectly alright, young Sir," he ushered Harry towards his desk. "Now, do you know if you have a Gringotts Vault? Are you Muggle-Born or Wizard-Born? What is your name, young Sir?"

He was pretty much convinced the boy must be a Muggle-born to be so impressed but protocol required that he ask all the questions correctly when researching or setting up a new account. For some reason, he felt like he should know this young wizard; that he reminded the goblin of someone he once knew. Add that to the polite manners and shy demeanour, then Griphook was more than willing to try to help him out a little.

"I don't know, Sir" Harry gained a bit of confidence. The creature seemed very business-like, and although he looked different, he didn't feel threatening at all. "I'm an orphan. My aunt and uncle are...ah... Muggles? But I don't know about my parents."

He was torn about whether or not he should tell Griphook his name. His aunt had been very specific in her letter about not telling anyone, but why would that matter here? As he was thinking, he took his baseball cap off and scrubbed a hand through his hair, not realising that it revealed his scar.

The astonished Goblin saw it and recognised it immediately. Rubbing his hands together, he smiled to himself. This was a very fortunate day, indeed, as he would be the one to help one of the bank's most important customers. That's when it hit him: this boy did not act as he expected, and he did not act like a confident young pureblood coming to claim his inheritance. He was quiet and shy and acting like one of Tom Abbott's waifs and strays from the Leaky Cauldron.

"Ah, Mister Potter... one moment, and I'll get your file," he said, deciding to help the young man and see what happened.

"H-how do you know my name?!" Harry was alarmed and looked ready to flee.

"I apologise if I upset you Mr Potter. It's you're scar... it is well known in our world," Griphook soothed him. "Perhaps we should talk in a private office? It would seem someone has been keeping you quite ignorant of several very important matters. Shocking, quite shocking! We Goblins of Gringotts will help put that right immediately"

Harry nodded slowly. He had already concluded that this place was a bank, and surely people in banks had to be trustworthy... or Goblins, in this case, it would seem. If he had a file here... maybe he had something from his parents? That would be amazing, and he couldn't miss the chance.

He followed the goblin into a cosy office off to one side. Griphook waved him to the seat nearest the door, which showed just how well he could read his customer's needs. Quickly, he summoned another goblin to fetch the relevant files for him, and he offered the young wizard before him a snack.

"Umn... if it's not too much of a bother?" Harry nodded, suddenly realising how much time had passed since breakfast.

Without further ado, Griphook provided an array of biscuits and a sweet, light drink that tasted vaguely of pineapples with underlying flavours of elderflower and some sort of berry he couldn't quite identify.

"There you go, young Sir; some Moppak Cordial for you. It's my son's favourite. The wrapped biscuits are my grandmother's recipe, I always say even bad days look better after a bit of sugar." Griphook smiled as Harry took his first tentative sniff, then sip of the sweet beverage.

"Now then, I know this is a lot for you to understand, so I will just give you the basics, for today, and we can discuss it further once you have had time to process the information. Is that agreeable with you, Mr Potter?" He nodded as he saw the child understood. "Well then, the Potter family has a total of ten vaults with the bank, plus access to a few others under now dead family lines that married most recently into the Potter Tree. However, you only have access to your Trust vault until you are seventeen years of age."

Harry gaped at him. He had no idea how much money a vault held, but he didn't see why his family would have as many as ten if they weren't at least rather well off, if not actually stinking rich. This was more than he had ever imagined.

"Though as you are the last of your line," Griphook continued, "you will also have access to certain legal documentation, such as your parent's will, your own birth certificate, your land registry - though you will not be able to sell or buy any property as yet - and your Trustee Folio. If you feel that your Trustees have not served you well, at this point, you may request an audit by the bank, and we will become your Trustees whilst an audit is performed and their performance is evaluated by the Ministry of Magic. Have you any questions before we go down and visit your Trust vault?"

Harry clutched his ornate goblet, the sweet drink almost forgotten, his biscuit had been held so tightly it was now just a mess of crumbs over his jeans and the carpet.

"Who...who is my trustee?" He asked, voice quivering slightly as he tried to control his emotions. "And what are their duties?"

"Well, according to these documents, your original Trustee was Sirius Black, your Godfather. However, he was arrested just after your parent's death, so your protection was passed to... hmmm highly irregular..." Griphook tapped the parchment thoughtfully. "If these papers had been followed according to your mother's wishes, if Sirius Black was not available then care should have gone to the Longbottoms, however they are unfortunately in long term care so you should have gone to the final option listed on your parent's documentation, so a Mr Severus Snape was to be your Trustee and Guardian.

I quote from your father – "I would rather that snake Severus look after my son than those miserable Muggles my Wife is ashamed to call family"

However, it seems Mr Snape was never informed, and the position was claimed by Albus Dumbledore. He is the Chief Mugwump of the Wizengamot - basically he is something like the head of the House of Lords in Muggle politics? - And also the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Magic. I see no authority on his part for him to claim this position in your life, Mr Potter."

Griphook sounded both concerned that someone had managed to circumvent protocol so thoroughly and that the goblins hadn't picked up on it sooner. He looked over his reading glasses at the boy sitting in front of him in concern.

"In your case, your Trustee was also supposed to be your Guardian and raise you in your parent's stead. However, it seems that Professor Dumbledore instead chose to place you elsewhere? If so, he would be responsible for monitoring your care and teaching you about wizarding society. Am I to assume he has failed in these duties?"

The goblet dropped from Harry's nerveless fingers as he started panting with a curious mixture of anger and despair. He was never supposed to be with the Dursleys. He was supposed to have had someone checking on him, protecting him from harm, all this time! He should never have been left with people that hurt him and mentally tortured him for simply being his parents' son! And now he had someone to blame.

He struggled to bring himself back under control, lips tingling from the hyperventilation. Vaguely, he noticed that Griphook had moved from behind the desk and was now next to him, rubbing his shoulder gently, soothing the obviously distressed young man. Deciding to follow his instincts, he took the boy's hands and asked him another question.

"Are you one of Tom Abbott's boys? Is he helping you?"

Harry nodded. Griphook summoned his assistant again and sent him to fetch the Innkeeper. Despite being a father himself, he had little idea of how to cope with a distressed young wizard. Young goblins tended to use an axe or fire to try solve most of their problems and by ten years old were already apprenticed. It was many years since he'd held a youngling and tried to sooth them through such turmoil.

Apparently, the crowd outside had thinned out somewhat as Griphook's assistant, Hammerstrike, returned - leading a frantic looking Tom. As soon as the pub owner saw Harry slumped in the ornate seat, he shook himself free of his guide and hurried forward.

"There you are, lad! I've been right worried about ye. What've we been up to, hey?" He gently ran his hands over Harry's arms, reassuring himself that the boy was at least physically ok.

"Mr Abbott," Griphook greeted him, a short nod showing his respect. "Young Mr Potter, here, has only just found out about his Trustees and his heritage. He appears quite distressed."

"Mr Potter!" Tom yelped before composing himself. "I hadn't asked his name... I never believed... How?... Who...? Questions for another time, perhaps."

He shook his head and crouched back down by the shaking child, his questions and anger at the boy's past could come later. Right now, all that mattered was the boy before him.

"Harry... Harry, come on now. Look at me... please?" Tom coaxed the boy, pressing another goblet of Moppak Cordial into his hands as Griphook gave it to him. "Harry, it's me, Tom... from the pub. Are ye ok lad?"

Harry slowly focused on the man rubbing his arm and gave him a shaky smile. Tom was a familiar face in a world that had suddenly been turned upside down. Griphook only just rescued the drink as Harry threw himself into the elderly man's arms, sobbing in relief. The green eyed boy was crushed to realise that he had been through so much, and all this time he was supposed to be with someone else, someone who may not have hated him.

Tom was astonished as, after a few moments of heart-breaking sobs, Harry pulled himself back, a calm mask almost fully back in place, the only remaining sign of his emotional turmoil in his clenched hands and trembling lips. If he hadn't been a witness to the outburst a few seconds previously, then he would never have believed it had happened.

After Tom had been filled in on the details - with Harry's permission - he agreed to wait in Griphook's office while the goblin took Harry down to see his vault for the first time. Tom helped himself to some of the Moppak Cordial and biscuits while he waited.

Harry enjoyed his ride in the mine-cart. He had never been to a theme park, but it was how he had imagined a rollercoaster to feel, and the rush as they went through the spray of a waterfall had been amazing!

As Griphook opened the vault door, Harry had to force his mouth closed again, as his jaw just wanted to keep dropping. It was a huge room, almost the size of a soccer pitch from what he could see, and gold was piled everywhere, interspersed with piles of bronze and silver. By the door, there was a heavy, leather covered chest with a crest embossed on in.

"That chest contains the documents you have access to at this time, young Sir," Griphook indicated it. "This vault is your Trust vault and must last you the next seven years, I hope you will spend wisely." He smiled slightly at the child's awed look.

"School fees will be paid automatically. For anything else, simply come see us with this key," Griphook handed Harry the key he had used, "and we will be able to withdraw any funds you require. Is there anything else I can help you with, or would you like some time?"

"Umn... if it's ok, Mr Griphook? Can you help me go through the papers?" Harry ducked his head, waiting for the refusal. "Oh! And I want to do that thing - where you question my Trustee? - why he didn't do his job."

Every new sight stoked the rage and pain in Harry's chest, the fact that he had been living that life and this magical world of wonder was just around the corner waiting for him... it burned.

"Of course young Sir, and it's just Griphook... no Mister" the Goblin conjured a table and two chairs for them to sit at as he pulled out some of the documents. He only brought forward Harry's birth certificate and his parent's will for now - everything else could wait for a later meeting.

"Please, call me Harry then" Harry smiled shyly at the goblin, feeling more at ease and less embarrassed about his outburst now.

"Well, your birth certificate is very straight forward Master Harry." Griphook held it out. "It shows your date of birth, full name, parent's names and god parents and place of birth as Potter Hall so you were a home birth."

"Oh!" Harry was startled. "My name... it's Harold Rowan James Potter... I always thought it was just...Harry... Harry Potter"

"Well according to this..." the goblin perused the notes on the side of the certificate. "You were named for both great-grandfathers and your father, good family traditions. Now the Will, no great surprises, you inherited everything apart from a few small bequeaths that were distributed at the time. The only thing of note would be the codicil that states in the event of your parent's death you are to never be placed with your Mother's family... the...ah...Dursleys?"

Griphook gasped as power whirled around the now white faced boy, his eyes and fists clenched as he fought his temper. As before he soon recovered himself and tried to show that placid mask but Griphook knew that this boy was powerful and not a wizard to cross.

"I would suggest we go back upstairs. I have a proposal for you and Mr Abbott to keep you safe while we put the wheels in motion about the audit and any charges you wish to place. If that is ok with you M... Harry?" Griphook watched his newest client, curiosity dancing in his eyes.

~#~

Back in the plush private office, Griphook quickly gained Harry's permission to discuss all current issues with Tom present as his plan would require the older man's help.

"As the bank will become your Guardian and Trustees for the duration of the investigation M... Harry, my apologies it's habit I'm afraid, we need to place you somewhere safe until things are cleared up. I would suggest that you continue to stay at the Leaky Cauldron with Mr Abbott here, he is well known for his trustworthiness in the Wizarding world and in addition his inn is well warded against most scenarios." Griphook laid several parchments across his desk. "However, I would suggest creating a... new identity... to protect you while this happens. The entire Wizarding community is well aware that you are due to make your entry back into our society this year as you will be expected at Hogwarts this September. To protect you from the media and others who may or may not wish you well I would suggest a disguise as well as a new name. We at Gringotts can provide that as part of the audit process at no additional fee"

Harry and Tom blinked. Tom at the trust being placed in him by the goblins and Harry at the fact they weren't trying to force him into going to a foster family or orphanage straight away.

"First of all, we would have to change your name... what would you like to use for now? Obviously this is just on a temporary basis until legalities are sorted out for you or you are safely off to school, whichever comes first." Griphook looked at Harry questioningly.

"Umn... I don't know? How do you choose a new name?!" Harry looked panicked.

"May I make a suggestion" Griphook offered. "How about Rowan James? it's your middle names so you are still connected to your family, it won't confuse your magic as that is indeed part of who you are but no-one would ever think to connect it with 'Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived'..."

Harry scowled at hearing his title, it sounded stupid and he didn't even know why someone would call him that, surely anyone who was alive was 'the-person-who-lived'?

"That sounds fine, I like it... but what about..." Harry waved to his scar, letting Tom see it for the first time.

"Well, your hair and that scar are both very distinctive... the eyes, not so much as they are from your mother and look very different in your face. I think a goblin glamour to change your hair and hide the scar should be enough, along with some new glasses." Griphook said after some thought.

At Harry's nod of permission he started to weave the spells around the boy, using chants and complicated gestures for the goblin magic as opposed to a wand. Soon enough the scar was hidden and Harry's hair was a touch longer so the wild waves were a bit more manageable and a deep chestnut brown, the warm glow going well with his green eyes.

"Now, I have taken the liberty of withdrawing one hundred galleons from your account Harry... I mean Rowan" Griphook said, handing over a leather pouch. "Don't worry, it's bigger inside and I put a feather light charm on it for you. That is around five hundred pounds at the current exchange. Now, you can access your account under both 'Harry Potter' and 'Rowan James' as they are both you and your magic recognises that so don't worry about your identity. Just sign this paper as 'Harry' if you will, it requests the audit... that's right, and here's your identification parchment as 'Rowan' if any is needed. We will write to you at the Leaky Cauldron if we need anything further. Now, Mr Abbott - if you could take Mr P... ahem... James to get some new clothes and glasses as well as anything else you think he needs, that will be all for today I think."

Griphook smiled kindly at the young wizard, he had impressed the Account Manager with his intelligence and fortitude during what were obviously difficult revelations. To be treated with such dignity and respect by a wizard was refreshing as even those polite few like Mr Abbott were never quite so deferential to the Goblins' skills.

"Thank you so much Mr Griphook, you've been ever so helpful. If you can be in charge of the Audit and do whatever you think is needed, you really are the best Goblin ever! Thank you again!" Harry was almost giddy with excitement, he had a new name, money to spend and his adventure was just growing by the minute.

As he stepped out the bank with Tom he was amazed to see it was now late afternoon, he had been in the bank for several hours. Despite the Moppak cordial and the snacks he was now utterly famished and there was still more to do!

"Come on then H...Rowan" Tom winked. "Let's get a bite to eat and then some clothes sorted for you, after that if there's time we'll see if there's anything else you want today, if you're up to it. We can always come back tomorrow if you want to just head home now?"

Harry thought about it for a moment and then agreed to at least get some food for now and an outfit for the next day. It had been a long day and he was already very tired, his brain overloaded with the information he had gained from the bank. Idly, he wondered if he could find the Parisian Witch and thank her for causing the chaos that sent him there, without it he may not have met with Griphook or found himself with such a staunch supporter within the caverns of the Goblin Nation.

After a simple but hearty meal at the Crossed Wands, a friendly little cafe near the bank, they headed over to Madam Malkins. There, Tom took total control of the conversation and arranged a few simple shirts, a couple pairs of trousers, socks, pants, shoes that would magically resize to Harry's feet and a small selection of knitted jumpers. After those were sorted the assistant brought over three sets of plain, every day robes that would coordinate with any of the other items bought.

Harry was amazed by how quickly everything went. He soon realised though that the reason they had the bundles 'ready to go' as it were, only needing a quick resizing spell or two, was that Tom had a standing arrangement with the store for when he had kids show up so they always kept one or two bundles for both boys and girls tucked away ready.

The two assistants that had been helping them were smiling indulgently as every time they performed a charm on the clothes or summoned various items, the boy in front of them ooh'd and aah'd in surprise and delight, his eyes shining as he turned to Tom.

"Will I be able to do all that?" he gasped, half shy, half excited.

"Of course ye will lad, after we get your wand and after ye go to school to learn the spells." Tom chuckled. "Come on now, you're nearly asleep on your feet, it's been a big day so I think a spot of supper and then bed for you."

The shop assistants smiled as Harry thanked them politely as he left, carrying his new purchases with pride. This was the first time he could ever remember having new clothes just for him and he was determined to look after them and wear them with pride.

They were soon back at the Leaky Cauldron where Tom banished the clothes up to Harry's room with a simple flick of his wand. He sent for a light supper of soup and a crusty roll and a large glass of milk and sat Harry at what was already becoming 'his' table, tucked in near the counter and out of the way of most customers.

Tom settled back behind the bar, helping his son with the evening crowd, watching his young charge eat. He couldn't believe that Harry Potter of all people had turned up as one of his waifs and strays! The boy was supposed to be safe, growing up in the lap of luxury and taught all about his world and his role in it.

'Thank the gods that he had been found by me and the goblins and not by rogue Death Eaters or some other monster.' Tom thought to himself as he turned to his next customer.

"Oh hello Severus!" He blinked in surprise. "Fancy seeing you here, what can I do for you?"

"Tom" The dark haired customer nodded. "Just a coffee please, black. I need a room for the week as I need to stock up on supplies and I don't want to be flooing back and forth every five minutes, it just gets tedious."

"That it does" Tom smiled, though surly and gruff, Severus was one of his favourite customers. "You can't have your usual room I'm afraid as we have a young guest in there at the moment"

He nodded towards Harry, he had been placed in the small room at the back of the inn which Severus preferred due to the peace and quiet it offered. It also happened to be the room that Tom tended to use for his waifs due to being so calm and out of the way.

"Very well, I supposed needs must" Snape agreed begrudgingly, rubbing at his brow. A headache nagging behind the eyes.

Tom looked over him, his warm heart worried as he took in the tight, stressed, features. He had always had a soft spot for this particular wizard and would look forward to his supply trip to Diagon Alley.

"Look, Severus, why don't you stay here until I get back and we'll get out your favourite brandy. You look to have a lot on your shoulders lad." Tom said kindly, rubbing his young friend's shoulder. "I just need to get Rowan off to bed and I'll leave my boy in charge of the bar, it's a quiet enough night for him."

Severus could only nod as he watched the elderly innkeeper clear the young boy's dishes and lead the obviously sleepy child up the back stairs. Rubbing his head again he growled to himself, no-matter what he did the daily struggle just seemed to be getting worse.

~#~

Tom steered Harry through a wash, brushing his teeth, into his new pyjamas and into bed. He sighed as the sleepy boy still managed to keep a wary eye on him throughout and stayed up to bolt the door as Tom left. Now that he knew the boy's real identity, Tom found the nervous behaviour even more distressing than he normally did in his strays. At least with the average Muggle-born you could maybe understand their parents fear even if you couldn't condone their reactions, but with the Boy-Who-Lived? He should never have been left with people who would fear magic.

Shaking his head he tried to put it out of his head, he had another boy to look after this evening and he was waiting downstairs. Harry was safe for the night and would have another busy day tomorrow. He stopped by his private office to pick up a bottle of his finest Armagnac, a bottle of Darbeau from 1962. It was nearly forty-seven galleons a bottle but well worth it when it came to spoiling his boys.

~#~

Back down in the bar Severus was staring moodily into his coffee. He was looking forward to talking with Tom, the old man always helped put things into perspective and he always had a neutral position in the politics of things so Severus was never made to feel guilty about his choices as long as he had valid reasons for making them.

"There we go lad" The older man's voice startled him from his introspection. "Let's go over to Rowan's table with these."

They settled at the secluded table with a healthy snifter apiece and a large bowl of buttered crusty bread slices between them, the bread still warm from the oven. For several moments they sat in companionable silence, nibbling on the delicious bread and sipping slowly at the excellent drink.

Tom looked over his young companion, noting how his black hair hung limp and greasy past his shoulders, his skin even more sallow than usual and the hollows under his eyes making his nose stand out as even more hawkish than normal. It had been a long time since he had seen his young friend looking quite so worn and weary.

"Tom" Severus started talking unexpectedly. "I have... discovered something very distressing. I don't know quite what to do."

"Why not tell me about it, maybe talking it out will help?" The kindly innkeeper offered.

"Well, you know how I was when we first met? I was so angry at the world and didn't trust anyone?" The weary younger man swirled his drink. "I gave my trust to very few over the years since then, and only those few because of your help. Well I found out recently that one of those few have betrayed me."

"Ach lad, that's dreadful." Tom winced in sympathy. "Was it deliberate or are they just careless with your trust my boy?"

"Oh it was most deliberate" Severus snarled, gulping the last of his drink and slamming his glass down. "He has controlled everything and arranged to make my life hell. And there is nothing I can do about it. I can't even talk in detail in case he hurts you or others I care about."

"Oh Severus, if there's one thing I know is that you will find a way." Tom soothed him, patting his angrily twitching hand on the table and refilling the glass. "I won't press you for further details but you are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. I remember when you stayed here as a boy, you were definitely one of my favourites with your clever mind and marvellous inventions. I still use the polish you invented to protect my bar and tables, it works a treat to protect against spell damage. I know you only came here after your Ma died and were older than my usual lads but I care about you just as much. I've told you before and I'll tell you again Severus Snape, you have a home here as long as you need it."

Severus sighed, running a hand through his lank hair and grimacing. He hated feeling like this, he liked order and control and knowing exactly what to expect. Being blindsided like this had shaken him and for some reason he was unable to control his emotions which only distressed him further. Added to that he was being watched too closely for him to go visit his master or his other friends and the constrictions were chaffing.

"Come on lad, a bath and a good night's sleep will help no end." Tom tried to cheer him up a little. "I'm sure you have much to do over the next few days, it's going to take several days for you to find all the books you need isn't it?"

Tom winked as he tidied the glasses away and wiped the table. He showed Severus to the next quietest room, this time just by the entrance to the family's quarters. With most of his family out in the world with their own families and careers it actually felt nice having a new 'rescue' and one of his old lads staying, it gave him some new bodies to fuss over.

As he went through to join his wife Millie he chuckled to himself, sometimes he wondered if the gods had a file on him labelled 'the ultimate Hufflepuff', he just wasn't happy unless he was helping someone.

~#~

Harry bounded down to breakfast, for the first time in years he felt truly optimistic. He had woken up ridiculously early and spent ages choosing between his new clothes before deciding on an outfit of a pale grey shirt, charcoal grey trousers, his shiny black shoes and a sleeveless knitted pullover in a pattern of brown and green diamonds with overlying thin black lines. It reminded him of pictures he'd seen in his uncle's golf magazines but at the same time he thought it would 'look right' for the new world he was in.

Every day since coming here he had seen both Tom and his son wear these types of pullover over shirts and simply roll their sleeves up when it was warm. Overall he thought the style of dress was very much late Victorian through to WWI and he liked it, compared to his previous experience of uncomfortable, threadbare clothing in the modern style this new clothing felt well-made and like it would endure, though the formal style shoes felt very odd.

He carried his robes down to the dining area, it was far too warm inside to wear them and he wasn't entirely sure how to wear them. He had chosen the deep brown ones to go with his pullover and he wasn't sure if he liked the idea of wearing too much green, it was just too noticeable for his tastes.

"Ah there ye are Rowan, just in time for breakfast." Tom's eldest son, Jeremy, greeted him. "Here, put that away and ye'll be set for the day."

With that he set a plate with bacon, eggs and toast in front of Harry and a bowl of the sweet, creamy porridge and another glass of milk. Harry smiled shyly up at him before tucking in eagerly, this early the only other customer was the tall, dark man he recognised from the night before. Jeremy had given him the same breakfast but with coffee instead of the milk.

Tom came in just as Harry was scraping up the last of his porridge, he was feeling incredibly full but he'd figured out that Tom had told the kitchen staff - Millie and several house elves - that he needed 'feeding up'. After greeting Severus, Tom came to Harry and smiled widely.

"Hey there Rowan, those clothes look good on you." He complimented the blushing boy. "If you're finished we can head into the Alley and finish up getting you sorted out?"

"Okay Mr Tom." Harry replied, still unable to shake his habits.

Tom simply shook his head indulgently and led him through to the Alley wall, taking him back through to the Wizarding shopping district. He helped Harry settle the robes over his shoulders so they hung correctly and they headed towards one of the narrow side streets. Just down Hellas Close they stopped outside what looked like a normal house. The entire street was a tiny residential area but it was also the home of Healer Witherhorne, a private healer that Tom took all of his young guests to see as soon as possible.

Healer Witherhorne was much less intimidating than a visit to St. Mungos and her kind, grandmotherly appearance generally put them at ease. Inside her cosy home she was able to treat most of their physical ails and let Tom and their new guardians know what was needed to heal their souls.

"Ah Tom, I got your owl. This must be Rowan, it's a pleasure to be meeting you young man. Come in, come in. Sit yourselves down and we'll soon have you sorted out." she greeted them, her soft Irish lilt warm and welcoming.

Her lounge was decorated in cool earthy tones with warm brown sofas around the fire. In one corner a high stool was kept next to a trolley and what looked like a Muggle clipboard. As the healer followed in behind them she summoned those items forward and called Harry to her.

"Come on then Rowan, I find it's often best just to get straight down to matters so we can get them out of the way and have a nice cup of tea. If you can just hop up on the stool? That's right dear, now, I don't know if Tom explained but I'm what's called a healer. That's like a Muggle doctor, I'll be running a few diagnostic spells... don't worry it won't hurt a bit... and we'll be able to make sure you are as healthy as can be. Okay?" She stood back from him, letting him have some space to process her words and their meaning.

"Yes Ma'am" He whispered, quite liking her open and forward manner.

"Righty-ho, let's get started dear." She bustled around efficiently, setting a Ready-Rite quill to the parchment on the clipboard, ready to take the notes from her diagnostics.

As she began to cast the series of complicated charms the Ready-Rite set to work, new parchment appearing as needed. It was a charmed quill similar to the journalists' 'Quick Quotes' quills but wrote full reports, not just shorthand notes that could be misunderstood later.

Harry tried to sit as still as he could but he was entranced by the healer's wand and kept twisting to follow her movements. He thought that the spell work looked beautiful with the burning trails of magic and the almost dancing moves of the wand leaving a delicate web of blue green fire in the air.

Healer Witherhorne pursed her lip as she finished. There was an extensive history of abuse evident, as all too often seen with Tom's boys, but there was also something else. Some sort of darkness shrouded the boy's magical core, weakening it and blocking growth. She had never seen such a phenomenon and would have to call in outside help, a curse-breaker would be the most logical option or perhaps a soul mage.

Picking up the stack of parchments from the Ready-Rite, she turned to her patient and smiled cheerfully. At least his past was behind him and now they could start the long task of healing the damage.

"There now dear, that's all the diagnostics done, how did that feel?" She asked brightly.

"That was amazing!" Harry replied. "I could feel a tickle but it didn't hurt and the magic looks pretty!"

"That's very kind of you to say. I have your notes here and I'm sure none of it will be a surprise, now I have to ask, are you happy for me to talk about this in front of Tom or would you like us to talk alone?" The elderly healer asked him.

"I...I'd like to talk to you alone first if... if that's ok?" Harry looked over at Tom and chewed his lip, worried that he'd offended the old wizard.

"Ack, that's fine lad, this can be very personal." Tom allayed his fears. "You can always ask me about anything you don't understand later if you need to"

Tom smiled reassuringly, his eyes crinkling with genuine warmth. He quietly stepped out the room, heading to the kitchen where he had waited when previous boys had requested time alone with the healer.

"There now dear, he'll not hear anything from in here. So what we need to do is get you on a series of potions, we need to repair the damage from the malnutrition so your immune system can protect you and you can grow properly and your organs can work properly. I also need you to take a supplement for your bones for a while, you've had a couple of nasty breaks and again because you've not had enough to eat they are a bit weaker than I'd like. Overall though you're in a lot better shape than some in your shoes so we have a lot to be glad for."

The healer smiled brightly again and offered him a glass of milk and some biscuits before carrying on.

"This next bit is probably a wee bit upsetting dear. Those injuries to your back, they need fixing up straight away so we can make sure they don't scar. Now your magic has done a grand job by itself but it's only a couple of spells and a potion to go in your bath and you won't even have a mark after a couple of weeks. It will get rid of the older scars too." She looked him in the eye as she spoke, letting him see her sincerity.

Harry nodded, chewing his lower lip. His back was still sore, aching when he moved and throbbing if he laid on it at night. Although the aloe had prevented infection setting in and his magic had started the healing, there was still a lot of muscle and tissue damage. Due to his lack of regular food, even with what he had stolen using his magic to hide, he had very few reserves to fuel his magic in the repairs.

"Now, would you like ridding yourself of those glasses for good?" She went on to ask, waving towards his broken frames. "There's a couple of spells followed up by potions that mean we could be freeing you from them by the end of the month if you so like."

Harry was smiling widely at that, he was so tired of feeling vulnerable whenever his glasses were broken or taken by someone else, leaving him unable to defend himself with any success.

"That'd be great Ma'am... it... won't hurt will it?" he asked, his expression warring between hope and fear, half expecting her to say she was joking after all.

"No dear, though it can be a wee bit uncomfortable during the last week so I suggest a lot of sleep and quiet rest during that part. None of the others hurt either though this bruise balm I would like you to use can itch a wee bit while it works, passes within a couple of hours though." She handed him a tin filled with a sweet smelling yellow ointment. "Now I'll just get your potions together with their instructions and we'll get you on your way."

"Please Ma'am, how much do I owe you?" Harry asked, afraid that he wouldn't have enough left after his marvellous clothes.

"Och, away with you!" She replied. "I don't need to be paid, you obviously need me and we should always help those in need. Getting better is payment enough"

"Please... please let me pay. My parents were magical, they left me some money! I can pay." Harry was almost begging, his cries of distress bringing Tom through from the kitchen.

"H...Rowan! Whatever is the matter lad?" He asked, alarmed at the sight of the distressed boy.

"He wants to pay me, Tom" Healer Witherhorne answered instead. "He's quite distressed at the idea of being in my debt I think."

"Ah, that will do it." Tom agreed. "He has some money Rhiannon, let him pay you something. Believe me, he's not one for debts and he'll fret if you don't."

"Very well, Tom, if you think it's for the best" She knelt down near the whimpering boy. "It's okay Rowan, you can pay if you want to. It's two galleons and five sickles for the potions and check-up." She helped him count it out, showing him the different coins and their values.

~#~

It took Tom nearly an hour and an ice-cream at Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour to get Harry fully relaxed again after his panic attack at the healer's. He was horrified when he found out why, one of the things that Harry had memorised from the child protection lessons they had in his primary schools over the years, is that abusers could pretend to help children in abusive homes but then request sexual favours as 'payment' for the help received.

Harry's fears had been further reinforced by his so called family taunting him with insults and suggestions that he would be a whore on the streets if not for their care and he should be grateful that they only made him do chores.

Tom couldn't believe his ears, it had been a few years since he's last picked up a Muggle-born in need of help, over the last thirty years or so their parents had generally been much more accepting when it was discovered their children were different. Progress had still been slow and Tom had still had many runaways but they had all actually ended up using the pay phone at the end of the street to call home and would have a frantic relative arriving within twenty-four hours to collect their wayward child.

Tom had still been able to help these families, often putting them in touch with a 'foster' Muggle family which had a wizard or witch child, this way they could learn about their new world from someone 'in the same boat' as it were and not feel too overwhelmed.

Of course there were many that came through his bar that he wished he could help, those with sour faced parents, those creeping through looking alone and scared or those that went through hiding bruises and a haunted look in their eye. However if they didn't ask for help or didn't stay in the Inn, under his protection, he couldn't do anything for them. There was no department of Child Welfare within the Wizarding Government or any official channel with which he could raise his concerns. All he could do was keep quietly offering his help to those who asked, call in the Aurors when he suspected things of getting messy and get his friends in the Adoption Bureau involved when he could.

His father and grandfather had been hampered the same way and soon enough so would his son Jeremy when he took over. As much as they would like to they couldn't approach children they thought needed help in an overt manner unless they were near collapse otherwise they could be all too easily charged with kidnap or coercion by angry relatives or the child themselves.

~#~

The next day started out much the same for Harry, he once again spent time carefully choosing an outfit to wear before going down to a hearty breakfast. This time he ended up facing the tall, sharp faced man that seemed to also be staying in the inn.

Harry kept glancing at him, he could sense something about this man that was very much like himself, he couldn't identify the cause, but it was there all the same. As Tom collected him to take him through to the alley again Harry gathered his courage and darted forward, placing a packet of the biscuits Griphook had given him by the tall man.

"Here Sir, my last packet, Mr Griphook at the bank gave them to me. He says everything looks a little better with sugar. They really help, bye!" he said shyly, running after Tom as soon as he finished speaking.

Severus looked up, confusion filling his face as he watched the boy leave. That little act of random kindness touched him more than he could have believed was possible. Taking one of the biscuits from the pack he bit into it thoughtfully, after a few detection charms for potions and spells of course. Why break many years of habits now? The biscuit was delicious and complimented his morning coffee well. Despite himself, Severus was a little more cheerful as he made his own way out into the alley for the day.

~#~

Harry was trotting along by Tom's side, the older man was walking quite briskly along as they had quite a lot to achieve before lunchtime. Jeremy was bringing his daughter, Hannah, to the Leaky today and he wanted Harry to meet her as they would both be off to Hogwarts in September.

They went to Ollivander's first to get Harry his wand. They wouldn't be getting the rest of his school supplies until August but Tom wanted him to have that physical link to his magic and have the same small amount of practice that children from magical families had before school.

As they entered the cluttered shop Harry was overwhelmed by the ambient magic caused by the many wands kept there. As he was gaping in awe a strange wizened little man came from among the boxes and greeted them cheerily.

"Ah Tom Abbott, I remember you. Willow with a Unicorn Hair core, very whippy, perfect for charms and empathic magic. And who is this with you? My ... Mr Potter, I was expecting you. I remember your parents but that's for another time perhaps. Let's see..." he chattered cheerfully, bustling off into the stacks.

Harry was gobsmacked, his scar was hidden and he was disguised, how did the odd little man know who he was? He was soon distracted by Ollivander's return.

"Now, let's try this one. Hawthorn and a dragon's Heartstring ... no? Then how about Apple wood and Hippogryph feather? Hmmm no..." he muttered, offering wand after wand to the bemused boy.

After over twenty minutes of searching and at least a hundred wands, Ollivander seemed to suddenly have a revelation and pulled out a dusty box from the back of the store, bringing it to Harry and presenting it with fanfare.

"Now try this one, I should have known, should have expected... extraordinary... truly unique!" he said, hands fluttering in excitement as Harry picked up the slender wand.

Once again Harry gave it a flick and there was only a feeble sputter of sparks, Ollivander's face fell in exaggerated disappointment.

"Oh I would have sworn that was the wand for you! Holly and Phoenix Feather - the brother to the wand that gave you that scar, should have been yours... perhaps we need to do this another way my boy." Ollivander patted Harry on the shoulder, either not noticing or ignoring the flinch he elicited. "Stand in the middle of the store, close your eyes and follow your magic. You should feel the faintest of pulls that leads you to your perfect wand. The wand chooses the Wizard you know!"

Harry closed his eyes as ordered, ears straining to listed out for any dangers. As he stood there he realised he could sense a faint trail of silver magic leading from him so he followed it. He stumbled through the store, twisting and turning as he went until he discovered the box that held his wand.

He was at the far back of the store, in a space littered with detritus and broken or half-finished wands.

He looked down into his hands and saw the most amazing sight, his wand was two slender pieces of branch - or rather the shoots that come off a branch to support the leaves of a tree - tightly coiled around each other and polished to an almost smooth finish. At intervals small blue studs fastened through the coils holding the pieces of wood together, though bright in colour the little pegs seemed to absorb what light there was available in the dusty corner.

He carried it to the front of the store where Ollivander and Tom were waiting expectantly for him, both gasped at the sight of his new wand but for very different reasons. Tom had never seen a wand containing two woods before, or with crystal studs - it looked completely alien to him. Ollivander on the other hand thought that this wand would never sell, it showed no signs of actually working and had been discarded as a failed experiment.

"Marvellous... highly unusual!. You have chosen perhaps the most unique wand ever created!" Ollivander trembled in excitement. "This wand is truly spectacular - you see it is an experiment my Grandfather was working on before the turn of the century... the woods are spring growth of Rowan and Alder intertwined and pegged with bars of Egyptian Lapis. The core is perhaps one of the rarest of all, the crest feather of a Quetzalcoatl - the feathered serpent of the Aztecs, now all but extinct. Yes... yes, this wand will serve you well in times to come Mr Potter, it will serve you very well indeed."

Tom looked concerned as they paid for the wand and headed on to Flourish and Blotts, the main book store in the Alley. There, Harry was very impressed by the huge selection of books and the insane selection of titles and genres available.

"Here ye are Rowan" Tom smiled "Let's get you some books sorted, I'll grab you the basics I think you need, you have a wander and grab anything that catches your eye and I'll go through them with you in a little bit before we pay. Meet me at the large reading area just over there in an hour, ok?"

Harry nodded absently before wandering off into the wondrous Aladdin's cave of treasure before him. He soon started pulling out books and was quickly staggering under the weight of "Magical Beasts of the Americas", "Wands, Woods and Why", "Familiarity with Familiars", "If Wishes Were Horses: Accidental Magic - Melodrama through the Ages", "Things That Go Bump in the Night: Creatures to Avoid", "The Ghosts of Hogwarts", "Shiver My Timbers: The Greatest Ghost Ships" and finally "How Does Your Garden Grow? Spells for the Green Fingered".

He managed to get them all to the table and waited for Tom, who when he arrived just chuckled at the number. Harry chewed his thumbnail nervously as he watched his temporary guardian go through his pile of books with care.

"Hmmm, you've made some interesting choices here, but I think this one can go back, it will just lead to worrying and nightmares if you read it before you are used to the Wizarding world." Tom put 'Things That Go Bump in the Night: Creatures to Avoid' to one side. "Oh and this one too, it's already covered in one of the books I picked out for you." He also put 'The Ghosts of Hogwarts' back on the shelf.

Harry nodded and started to look over the collection of books that Tom had brought over for him to read. The titles were all just as strange and wonderful as others he had seen within the store: "From Muggle to Mugwump: Titles and Terms", "So You Thought You Were a Muggle?", "Magic Is Magnificent: Welcome to the Wizarding World in Ten Easy Steps", "Cyrus Cringle's Crash Course: Traditions, Holidays and Social Settings Explained", "Hogwarts: A History", "Magical Misconceptions: What Muggles Got Wrong" and finally "Bertram Bojangles Magical Atlas: A Guide to the Magical World"

Harry could see that he would have a lot of reading to do over the next month if he was to be prepared in time for going to Hogwarts. He thanked his lucky stars he enjoyed reading as he helped Tom carry the final book selection over to the counter to pay before heading back to the Leaky Cauldron.

~#~

Severus Snape was equally busy in Flourish and Blotts when Tom and his young charge were in there. He took a casual interest in the russet haired boy, his interest piqued by their earlier interaction. He could barely believe that the young boy was picking out so many books for himself and from what the dour Potions Master could see they were well considered and useful books.

He continued with his own order, making note of several books and purchasing copies to peruse at his own leisure. He needed to update to school library with extra books for suggested reading for homework assignments as well as expanding his own research library.

While picking out his Potions related texts Severus also selected a few rather hefty tomes on Mind Healing and other magics related to emotional wellbeing and mental magic. After discovering the manipulations and spell work that had been skilfully woven around him over the years he was determined to discover how to reverse the damage.

Several books he merely took note of the titles. They were borderline very dark and he would have to order them anonymously by owl to avoid anyone knowing he had them. As it was he was pretending that these books were a gift for the school's Mediwitch, Madam Pomfrey and he would indeed pass them along to her after a quick duplication charm gave him copies too.

He rubbed his temples wearily, almost twenty years of duplicity and stress were tiring and to discover that much of it had been made even more difficult than necessary was a hard blow to take. He had always been defensive and quite harsh personality wise but looking back over his teaching career he winced to see just how vindictive he had been - towards mere children!Hopefully with his new research and the help of his friends he would be able to escape the outside influences that had been controlling his actions.

~#~

Harry had positively inhaled his lunch and headed up to his room as quick as he could. Tom had asked him to come down at three to meet his granddaughter Hannah but otherwise his afternoon was his own and those books were calling to him.

He spread them out over the large desk at one end of his room. Reaching into his backpack he pulled out his old Muggle notebook from his old school and a rather worn biro and started taking notes. Reaching for his new wand and the book "Wands, Woods and Why" he started reading. The book actually covered pretty much every known wood, crystal and core used in wand making and their properties, and he was desperate to understand the looks the adults had been giving him over his apparently unusual wand.

"Hmm" He muttered to himself, writing furiously. "At least each section is alphabetical."

'Alder: Unusual in that it is both water loving yet highly combustible - opposing elements of Fire and Water combined in harmony, making it Sacred to the Wood Fae and those following the Green Ways. Also known as the Warrior Tree due to its fierce flame, and symbolises Strength and Determination. Due to its Water Affinity it can channel Water Magics and Bind Negative Spirits.

Rowan: Also known as the Witch Tree amongst Muggles due to the pentagram on the bottom of the berries. Regarded as a protection against Evil Charms and Enchantment, Wards away Evil Spirits, Guides the Bearer Home Safely. Also associated with Vision and Healing and fostering a strong bond with Familiars, Spirit Guides and the Elements.

Lapis: Opaque Crystal or Mineral aligned with the element of Water. Acts as an emotional Catalyst and can boost spell power. Is associated with Courage, Wisdom, Insight, Strength, Purity and Compassion.'

Grimacing, Harry shook his hand out, fingers stiff. It had taken him over an hour to find the information even with the easy layout as he kept getting distracted by the other exotic items in the book. Who knew there were over sixty types of woods, seventy-five suitable types of crystal and some fifty plus types of 'common' cores. He hadn't been able to find his core in the book as it was too rare.

Carefully putting the first book away he pulled out "Magical Beasts of the Americas" - maybe the section about the animal itself would help him. He discovered the book differed greatly from Muggle information on many of the creatures within, obviously the Muggle myths and beliefs had only used very small kernels of information that had become heavily twisted over time. Quickly turning to the creature that provided his wand core, he wrote down its main properties.

'Quetzalcoatl: Feathered Serpent, revered by both the Mayans and the Aztecs. Master of both Earth and Air Elemental Magics, the Quetzalcoatl is able to combine powers and also call on Water Elemental powers to master storms. Quetzalcoatl have been known to bond with Wizards and Witches in the past, known only to bond with those of pure intentions and heart. Unlike the Phoenix the Quetzalcoatl can free itself from a bond at any time if they suspect their bonded has become twisted by their powers or strayed from their path.

Use in Potions, Amulets and Wands: Due to their rarity over the last three centuries there have been very few documented uses in recent times. Quetzalcoatl only willingly give their feathers, scales and venom to their Bonded Wizard or Witch so unless a gatherer is fortunate enough to find naturally cast items within fifteen minutes of being shed, no sources are available as hunted components lose all magic or become harmful when used.

In Potions all components are used for purity and clarity, (note: read up on Mexican potions to see why they're used. Could be interesting!) While in Amulets they provide protection against attacks on the mind and soul, protecting purity.

In Wands it varies marginally on which part of the Quetzalcoatl is used as a core. Wing or Crest Feather, Fang or Scales. All provide an affinity for Earth and Air magic. Those who bear a wand with a Quetzalcoatl core are often very close to nature and both pure of heart and intuitive. If they become dark or seek to cause overall harm with their magic then the wand will cease to obey. As the Quetzalcoatl will only bond with one Wizard or Witch, a wand bearing a core from the beast will only obey one owner unless it feels defiled, then it simply will become inert until it is held by someone it deems worthy.'

"Huh" Harry mused. "Sounds like I have to behave if I want it to behave for me then I'll have to make sure I don't use it for harm. Guess that rules out using it on the Dursleys ... ah well"

He had just moved on to reading up about the basic social structure within Wizarding Britain and how he would be expected to hold himself, speak and act if he wanted to fit in when there was a knock at his door. On his reply Tom opened the door and let him know that Jeremy had arrived with Hannah and that Harry was invited through to the family portion of the building to meet her.

Suddenly nervous, Harry smoothed his blue and yellow pullover down anxiously and tried to tidy his hair before grabbing his sketchbook and the copy of "Cyrus Cringle's Crash Course: Traditions, Holidays and Social Settings Explained" as he followed Tom down to the family quarters. Somehow having something in his arms helped him feel more secure and they would provide a distraction once he was able to withdraw to a corner and leave the Abbotts to each other.

He had already flicked through the section on meeting new people within the Wizarding World and he kept running over the procedure in his mind as they approached the living room. He had never had opportunity to make friends with children his own age before, Dudley had made sure of that, and the parents of his classmates had all believed Vernon and Petunia when they said he was a lying, cheating, dangerous delinquent and rapidly on the path to a juvenile prison.

In the cosy family room he stood slightly behind Tom, clutching the books to his chest, his emerald eyes large as he chewed his lower lip. On the sofa there was a young blond girl, she was chattering comfortably with Jeremy and waving her hands as she described something to him.

"Ah, here we are" Tom said warmly as Jeremy and Hannah spotted him. "Jeremy, you have already met young Rowan here, Hannah my dear - this is Rowan James, he'll be in your year at Hogwarts - he starts in September too. I thought the two of you may like to meet before school so you'll both have a friendly face when you get there. Hannah love - Rowan has been Muggle raised so I'm sure he will have many questions about our world."

The two children stared at each other, both shy and not sure how to begin. Harry wrinkled his nose as he thought about the passage in his book and suddenly stuck out his right hand as he stood tense and poised for flight.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Abbott, how are you?" he asked stiffly with a rigid little half bow.

Both adults tried to control themselves, lips twitching as they watched the children greet each other, both obviously unsure of how to proceed.

"I'm well thank you Mr James, pleased to meet you. I hope you are well" Hannah replied, just as uncomfortable as she took his hand and bobbed in an uncertain curtsy.

"Umn.. I'm ok... I guess." Harry chewed his lip again. This is where the book told him to use 'small talk'... how did he do that?! "I... ah... guess you're a Witch then?" He asked, wincing internally.

"Yeah" Hannah replied. "I hope I end up in Hufflepuff like Dad and Granddad, though Ravenclaw would be good too... come on, let's sit on the sofa. Which house do you think you'll be in?"

With the ice broken the two children started to talk, it was still somewhat stilted and shy, at least on Harry's side, but Hannah was beginning to show the warmth and open nature that her family were known for.

After about half an hour Harry was being a little more open and after having heard that he didn't know about the different houses he was being taught all about them using Hannah's copy of "Hogwarts: A History".

Harry wasn't saying much, mostly simply nodding or shaking his head as needed or shrugging a shoulder. His body language remained quite tense, but he did gradually stop looking around for escape routes and watching the adults with suspicion.

Jeremy smiled sadly at the two children, Hannah was a gentle and friendly child, and it spoke greatly of this boy's previous experiences that he was struggling to open up or feel comfortable even with her. It was a miracle he seemed so at home with Jeremy's father, but that just indicated that Rowan had never had much exposure to more elderly figures and therefore had less reason to distrust them on sight - though he was definitely still wary and Tom was still earning the boy's trust.

"So now you know why I want to be Hufflepuff!" Hannah concluded with a smile. "Now do you have any idea which one you think you'll be?"

"Umn... Maybe Ravenclaw? I really like reading..." Harry offered nervously "Or maybe Slytherin. Survival seems kinda my thing... definitely not Gryffindor - they sound too... pushy and don't think about consequences and I don't think I'd be a good Hufflepuff, I don't do well in groups"

He ducked, looking afraid as he claimed to not be interested in her favourite house, worried that she would hate him or berate him.

"Oh that's alright" Hannah smiled warmly. "We can still be friends, wherever you end up! That's the great thing about being a 'Puff if I get in there! Oh I saw you have a sketch pad earlier... what do you like to draw?"

She drew him away from the uncomfortable moment with natural skill, barely even aware of the fact as she headed off a panic attack in the younger boy. It was long known that the Abbotts were low level empaths, able to get subtle readings off people around them when they felt an emotion particularly strongly. It was a skill that allowed the landlord of the Leaky to break up many a potential brawl before it actually started, saving them a fortune in furniture.

Hannah ooh'd and aah'd over the drawings in the book. This was the sketchbook Harry had received at the zoo, and he had been copying the pictures in the information booklet he had also received. The young Witch had never seen many of the Muggle animals featured.

"Oh Harry! The animals are so good, you're a real artist. They're really strange too! Very odd, I never saw anything like them." She exclaimed.

"Well, we're not that far from the zoo here - maybe one day your dad could take you?" Harry suggested shyly.

"That's a great idea!" Hannah squealed in excitement. "I hope he'll let me go! I'd love to see the Muggle world - of course you'll have to come and explain how it all works for me, be our guide"

Harry could only sit, jaw dropping in shock as she bounced up and immediately started to bombard her father with ideas for a trip to Muggle London. Pressing himself further into the corner of the sofa he waited for Jeremy to unleash his anger at Harry putting such outlandish ideas in his daughter's head. He gulped as Jeremy turned towards him, one eyebrow raised.

~#~

Severus was sitting in the restaurant area of the bar, just about to eat his evening meal, when Tom's latest waif came in and sat at his usual and secluded table, looking very pale. The Potions Master wondered what could have the child so shaken. He still hadn't had any significant interaction with Rowan but from what he had seen, the boy had seemed somewhat resilient, if wary.

Curious, he waited until Tom came over with his coffee and asked him what had happened.

"Oh, it was a sight to see." Tom chuckled quietly "He had been showing my Hannah some pictures of Muggle zoo animals, and mentioned that the zoo is near here, out in Muggle London... well of course that was her off and she's planned a trip to the zoo for next summer! Informed her father of the plans and is going to be inviting 'all her new friends she's sure to make at school, a trip to the Muggle world will be just so educational and exciting' and she's volunteered young H...Rowan there to be their guide. Poor lad looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole! Especially when my Jeremy started asking him questions about the zoo and the dangers and things. Obviously living here we have a little more experience of the Muggle world than the average pureblood, but it's still largely a mystery."

Snape snorted lightly as he raised his mug.

"I could almost feel sorry for the boy if it wasn't so pitiful he allowed himself to be outmanoeuvred by a couple of Hufflepuffs" he smirked.

"I would say she hasn't been sorted yet... but it is rather obvious" Tom smiled fondly. "At least the two young 'uns talked, she got him to open up a bit. I'm taking them both out on the 31st for their school supplies, any surprises on the school lists?"

"Tom, you know as well as I do that the school list for first years hasn't changed since before your eldest went to Hogwarts, in fact I think we use the same list that you used for your first year. The Wizarding world is not exactly known for its progress or ability to be forward thinking! Hell, most of those books you buy for your waifs aren't even used for Muggle Studies, despite being more than a hundred years more recent than the ones used in that ridiculous waste of a class!" Severus replied sardonically.

"Aye, that's true enough." the elderly Wizard replied. "In fact, Hannah is mostly getting Jeremy's old equipment, there's years' worth of wear left in that old cauldron yet."

Both men watched as a slightly less pale Harry finished his light meal and headed back upstairs, nose still buried in his copy of "Cyrus Cringle's Crash Course" as it had been through the meal. Tom shook his head slightly.

"Poor kid, he's been obsessing over that book for a good part of the afternoon, even while he was in my quarters. He's so scared we'll kick him out if he puts a foot wrong." he sighed.

"If he's anything like most of the boys you help he'll soon settle in and learn to relax. Probably a Ravenclaw if he takes to studying so well." Severus replied, draining his cup. "I think I will retire too, that cretin Mitchell at the Apothecary thinks he can get away with supplying substandard potion ingredients to me. If I am going to get through tomorrow without casting an unforgivable then I had best get plenty of rest."

With that Severus headed to his own room, for some reason unable to completely rid himself of the image of the young auburn-haired boy studiously reading that book, laser like intensity as he tried to absorb all the information within.

~#~

Harry barely left his room for the next few days other than to eat, a couple of 'play dates' with Hannah, and a couple of follow ups with the Healer. He spent every other waking moment either devouring the information within his books, eager to learn about his new world and the wonders it contained, or drawing.

He spent hours drawing intricate copies of the illustrations from the books, especially the ones containing images of creatures he had either never heard of or thought to be of myth and fairy tale. Tom even managed to supply him with some more sketch pads in heavy, handmade papers and a set of water paints to experiment with, and his artwork was becoming more and more lavish.

Tom had actually asked permission to keep one of the pictures and Harry had gladly given it. It was a surprisingly elegant piece for an almost eleven year old, and depicted a remarkably lifelike Barn Owl, very much like Tom's own post owl Genevieve.

Before he knew it, it was the morning of the 31st and Tom was waking him with a gentle knock on the door.

"Happy Birthday son, come on down for breakfast and we'll head into the alley before it's too busy." Tom called through the door.

As Harry walked into the dining area he was surprised to see Tom, Millie, Jeremy, Hannah and Professor Snape all waiting for him, though the Professor stood at the back of the group with a slightly sour expression and one slender eyebrow raised as if to question why he was there.

Harry couldn't help but smile when the Abbotts sang 'Happy Birthday' and gave him a stack of sweet, buttery pancakes with bananas and syrup for breakfast as a special treat. Even the Professor gave him a slight smile as he was thanking everyone sincerely for making his birthday so perfect.

~#~

The trip around Diagon Alley passed in a whirl of activity, Tom efficiently leading them through getting their school books, potion supplies, stationary, telescopes and so on. When it came to robe fittings Harry was pleased to see he wasn't the only one there and was soon outfitted with a complete set of Hogwarts uniforms, all charmed to expand over the school year.

It was in Madam Malkins that he met a young blonde boy, also getting his first year robes, they had a slightly stilted conversation about the school houses where the blonde announced he was sure to be in Slytherin, but Harry had become tongue tied with nerves and had managed little beyond the correct greetings and manners. He hoped to meet the other boy again and make up for his gaffe.

On the way out of Madam Malkins he was nearly trampled by what appeared to be an entire herd of noisy redheads, one of which was whining loudly about second hand robes and didn't even pause to apologise for sending Harry flying.

"Sorry kid." one of the older redheads helped him up and dusted him down. "Ron doesn't think very clearly or look where he's going when he's upset, are you ok?"

At Harry's mute nod, the young man nodded his own thanks and turned to jog after his family, berating his younger brother soundly for his lack of manners.

Once all the necessities were gathered Tom took Harry into the Eeylops Owl Emporium to choose a pet to take to school. Despite the name of the shop the place actually sold many types of magical creatures to act as familiars or mail birds. After wandering around for what seemed like hours Harry stopped and looked up at Tom in wonder.

"I...I can choose anything?" he asked, voice trembling slightly.

"Well, you can have an owl, toad or cat to take to school with you but if anything else has caught your eye then I'm sure Millie won't mind if I look after it for you during the school year" Tom said kindly.

"I...I really like her" Harry said, pointing to a beautiful snowy owl.

"Well then, let's get her. No, no... Put your money away, she'll be your birthday present." Tom smiled at his young charge.

As they were walking up to the register to point out the owl they wanted and buy the perch, bowls and treats for her, Harry was distracted by a bundle of black and grey fluff. A Kneazle kitten had somehow gotten out of the pen and was sitting in the middle of the floor, crying pitifully. Harry picked her up and looked into her enormous blue eyes, his own emerald green ones widening in shock as he realised she only had three legs.

"What... what happened to her?!" he asked in shock that she was hurt so young.

"Whut? Awh crap that one's a mutant - she was born that way. Worth nowt when they're freaky like that, hand her over and I'll get Kenny to drown her out back. Thanks kid." the grouchy store worker said, holding out his hand.

"What?! No!" Harry cried, cuddling the kitten to his chest. "I'll buy her too...I will!"

Tom stepped in, he could see that Harry would never let anyone harm the kitten, and he was also appalled at the callous worker. He knew the owner of the store would never condone such treatment of any of his animals, and would be owling him as soon as they got home.

"Now then, no need for all this fuss" he said smoothly as the member of staff started to threaten Harry. "Since she's obviously 'defective' and you're willing to just drown her, then I think you should be more than happy to give her to this young lad for his birthday? Especially since he's now going to buy a carry basket, food and bowls for her from here."

The surly show worker looked Tom in the eye and backed down gulping at what he saw there.

"Y-yeah, sure... I'm sure she'll make you a good pet kid" he muttered as he rang up the kitten and owl supplies.

Harry was ecstatic as they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron. He had assumed Tom would say he had to choose between his owl or his kitten but now he had both! And Tom was willing to keep one for him during the school year so he could have the other. This was turning out to be officially the best birthday ever!

~#~

Shortly after Harry, Hannah and Tom returned to the pub, a heavily cloaked figure entered Ollivander's Wand Shop. After making sure there were no other customers in the store he turned and warded the door, ensuring no-one could enter until he was done.

Ollivander came through from the back and was surprised when the hooded figure had him bound and forced back out of sight within the blink of an eye. Holding his wand to the elderly wand-maker's throat the mysterious figure rasped out his demands - his voice low and husky.

"You will make sure Harry Potter gets the Brother Wand, the Holly and Phoenix Wand. I know you have it, I know you made it, make sure it goes to the right boy, do you understand Old Man?" he growled.

"He-He's already been... he was chosen by a-a different wand!" Ollivander stammered.

"WHAT!... that's impossible! He won't have received his letter yet! It was only sent out an hour ago! Well, I will have to make sure he needs a new wand as soon as possible, do be a good fellow and make sure no-one else buys that one won't you? Good man... Obliviate!"

~#~

Harry was sitting back after the most extravagant birthday lunch he'd ever seen, never mind eaten, when a large brown owl came swooping into the private dining room they were using. With a hoot it dropped a thick parchment envelope in front of him.

The front was addressed to 'Mr Harry Potter, Rear Guest Suite, Leaky Cauldron' - intrigued he opened it up and read the contents written on equally heavy parchment.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

There was another page listing everything that Tom had taken him to buy that morning so he ignored it. The letter itself was folded reverently to be kept in his new trunk, which had a 'keepsake' compartment. Although he had been assured a place at the school through his name and magic the letter made it 'real' for the first time.

He quickly penned a reply and sent it back with the owl, thinking it was rather shoddy of them to expect a reply the same day they sent the letter! What if he had known nothing of the Wizarding world and had taken this as a hoax or some form of scam?

~#~

August 17th had Harry removing his glasses for the last time. His eyes had healed slightly quicker than expected, and apart from a couple days of discomfort he'd had an easy time of it. He was amazed at how the world looked without a clunky black frame around it.

His hair was also now just long enough to tie back thanks to a hair growth potion supplied by Snape who had finally become fed up with Harry sitting in the dining area, reading and pausing at ever increasing intervals to shake his hair out of his eyes. After a week he'd simply walked up and put a small phial on the table.

"Here, drink this. It will cause your hair to grow three to five inches over twenty-four hours. Anything to stop you twitching and shaking and looking through your hair like a sheepdog with a nervous disorder!" he'd barked out, somehow managing to snap, yet sound faintly affectionate at the same time.

He had also had a growth spurt, and several weeks of good food had him starting to look less scrawny overall.

He was just finishing breakfast when an owl flew in and dropped a heavy parchment envelope in front of him. Noting the Gringotts seal, he opened it. Gasping, he handed it to Tom in shock. The elderly innkeeper scowled as he read it and nodded once.

"Right lad, as soon as you've finished eating go change into your best outfit and we'll head up to the bank." he said, for once not smiling though his tone was reassuring. "Not to worry, best it's sorted before school starts anyway"

As Harry headed upstairs, Tom approached Severus who was just finishing up at his usual table.

"Severus, I would like you to accompany us to the bank if possible. I have a feeling the Goblins will wish to contact you anyway, I can't tell you anything more just now but trust me, this is important" Tom said, for once utterly serious.

"Of course" Snape replied, he knew that if his old friend was asking like this then it was indeed a matter of importance and not something he could refuse in good conscience.

~#~

In the bank the small group was ushered straight into Griphook's plush office. Harry curled up in the chair he had used the last time he was here, chewing his lip nervously and watching Professor Snape carefully. The Potions Master had managed to stay at the Leaky Cauldron for the majority of the last few weeks, only returning to Hogwarts for a few days here and there to drop off his purchases and brew a few potions.

As a result Harry had spent a fair amount of time observing the dour man and had started to form a deep respect for his future teacher. No matter what his hidden burden was, he was always polite in his own dry, sarcastic way and Harry often had to hide his desire to laugh when he overheard some of the snarky comments about a variety of the other bar patrons.

Severus, for his own part was very confused. He had no idea why he was needed in a meeting with Tom and his young charge. From what he had seen of the young boy he seemed to be polite and hard working as well as studious and eager to fit in, in his new world.

They weren't kept waiting long though, as Griphook soon entered and was presenting them with his snack trolley, shocking Snape as he had never seen a Goblin smile and offer refreshment to any Wizard before, never mind one as young as Tom's young guest.

"Good, we are all here. Now, young Rowan, are you happy for me to discuss everything with Professor Snape? As we said in the letter the audit of your accounts is complete and we wish to bring your care and accounts to conclusion before you go to Hogwarts in a few short weeks."

Harry nodded his consent, twisting his hands in the edge of his robes, staring at the floor though his eyes kept flicking up to watch the adult's reactions. He was anxious to see how they would react and afraid of the potential rejection from the severe Potions Professor.

"Professor Snape, before we begin I would like to ask you to vow that no matter what is revealed here today, you will stay until released by myself. You may of course ask to leave at any time but I ask that you promise to not simply leave with no warning." Griphook asked the shocked looking Severus, his tone serious.

"Very well, I give my word" Severus replied, an eyebrow raised as he looked Harry over.

"Thank you Professor." Griphook gave a slight bow before turning to the nervous boy and removing the glamour with a few waves of his hands. "May I present my Client, Master Harold Rowan James Potter, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter."

Severus managed to go even more pale than his usual milky shade, his long fingers threatened to crush the coffee cup he held as he took in Harry's now dark hair, more vibrant eyes, and of course the legendary scar. However he could also still see the shy boy he had been observing all summer and those green eyes were tearing into his soul with their deep expression of mixed fear and hope.

"So Rowan James is your name... to a degree" Snape drawled. "I suppose I can understand the subversion... what I do not understand is why you need my presence here today?"

"There is the matter of Lord and Lady Potter's Last Will and Testament. There are... discrepancies that have only just been picked up on with Master Harry's entrance to the Wizarding world. Here is the relevant section for you to read yourself" Griphook replied, handing over a certified copy of the relevant part of the will.

'In regards to the care of our son Harold Rowan James Potter and any other children born after him.

If I die before my wife then he shall remain in her care at least until he reaches his Majority. If we both pass before he is of age, then we wish for him to be in the care of his Godfather, Sirius Orion Black.

On the advice of our long-time friend and lawyer, the honourable Humphrey Mandrel, in light of Sirius' line of work in the Auror Corps we will also stipulate further carers we trust with our precious boy.

His Godmother, Alice Longbottom and her husband Frank.

If willing and able my Great Aunt Millicent Potter-Prewitt

My Cousin Twice Removed - Piers Beauclerc, Bordeaux, France

If none of these are available or able to care for Harry then approach Severus Snape, Potions Master, as Trustee and Guardian. I would rather that snake Severus look after my son than those miserable Muggles my Wife is ashamed to call family.

He was once a great and true friend to my wife, Lily Rose Evans Potter, and may be trusted to act for the best despite appearances.

Under no circumstances should our son be left in the care of the Muggles known as Petunia and Vernon Dursley, or in any way under the direct or indirect care of Albus Dumbledore, or due to his influence the House of Weasley, House of Moody or Family Tonks.

The Dursleys are Magic Haters and pose a great risk to any magical child; their own son should be screened at five years of age for his own safety. Dumbledore is a great Wizard but cannot be trusted to provide a secure childhood, he has too many plans in motion for us to trust him with our child with anything more than his education.'

Severus closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, holding his emotions back under his usual severe mask even as his eyes softened when he looked up at the Potter Heir. He had a feeling that there would be many times he would regret the decision he was about to make, but there was no other choice. He had betrayed his first and best friend once, he couldn't let her down again now, not in something as important as this.

"So as I understand it, I am now Potter's Guardian, and should have been for the last ten years?" he asked Griphook, his voice even and melodic.

"Yes" the Goblin nodded, his respect rising as he saw the Wizard before him calmly accept his responsibility. "I can assure you that our audit has been most thorough and charges are being processed through the Goblin Courts against those involved, primarily Albus Dumbledore, for deliberate subversion of a client's Last Will and Testament.

Although Master Potter would have initially been placed with Mrs Longbottom, by the end of the War the only approved guardians available were yourself and M'sieur Beauclerc. We contacted him and he is unfortunately most unsuitable as a guardian and from what I can tell was just as unsuitable ten years ago. He favours the gambling and drinking venues and is very much the 'man about town' I believe you humans call them."

"Very well, as long as Mr Potter agrees then I will accept and be his active Guardian at least on trial, if this situation proves unbearable to either one of us within the course of the year then we shall review whether he wishes to seek a more... kindly... Guardian and for myself to simply be his Trustee." Snape offered, leaving the child an escape clause should he desire it. He was well aware that he was not the ideal father figure according to most children.

Harry gave him a disbelieving look before smiling shyly. He could hardly believe that the tall Wizard was willing to take him in. It was simply the most 'wanted' he'd ever felt by anyone other than Tom, and it made him feel warm inside. Strangely, he found the Potion Professor's stern demeanour less uncomfortable than the overly friendly approach he received from Millie and Jeremy initially.

They had found it very difficult to understand when he flinched away from contact and preferred to spend his time alone. It was two or three weeks before they stopped approaching him to join in almost all events that were available. He had spent so much time studying in part just to avoid people, as he still felt uncomfortable when surrounded - it was the one thing he was dreading about going away to school.

"Well then, since everyone is happy with the arrangement, at least for the time being, I will simply arrange a convenient time with yourself Professor Snape, as we will have to review the Potter accounts, lands and your stipend as his Guardian as well as the yearly care allowance available for him. If you will just sign here, here and here... thank you, and a drop of blood here... very good. You are now Magically and Legally the Guardian and Trustee of one Harold Rowan James Potter. If desired he may also use the surname 'Snape' until his majority and it will be legally recognised. Is there anything else I can help you with just now?" Griphook carefully put all the paperwork in a heavily warded folder.

Tom had sat quietly through the meeting, simply watching. He was happy to see the warmth enter Severus' eyes and the shy smile appear on Harry's lips. He had an intuition about 'his' boys, and thought this pair would help each other heal in ways no-one else could. He had been trying to get Severus to take on one of the various children in need or mentor a Muggle-born for years, but had never had any luck. The unhappy man had closed himself off and had changed so much since his teenage years.

As they left the Bank and headed back to the Inn, Tom smiled as he saw the protective way the Professor walked beside his new charge, once again glamoured for privacy until it was time for school.

~#~

The following day found Severus and Harry in one of the smaller private dining rooms, surrounded by Harry's books, notes, note pads and parchment.

It was almost lunchtime and Severus had been going over his ward's knowledge, reviewing which books he had read, which he had skimmed and which had not been touched and he was just realising that there was one glaring gap in Harry's teachings.

"So no-one has thought to teach you how to use a quill?" he asked, rubbing his temple as he bit back a sarcastic comment.

"No Sir" Harry whispered, cheeks reddened in shame as he realised his guardian was holding his temper in check.

"No, no it's not your fault. It's too much to ask that the School actually suggest the Muggle-born or raised students learn over the summer, and why Tom didn't think to mention it I'll never know!" Snape bit out. "Oh well, as long as you are not a total imbecile we can get the basics drilled into you by September 1st. First you take your unfinished quill like so, take the quill knife and slice the tip like this... no!... not like... there yes... and strip the feather back a touch for a comfortable grip... and you can bind some string or ribbon around the shaft if it's too thin... good..."

Snape felt a strange sense of peace wash over him as he taught the young boy before him how to sharpen and customise his quill and went on to basic inking and writing techniques. Of course the first several sheets of parchment were beyond redemption, and Severus had to choke back his temper forcefully with only the odd sarcastic aside.

Two dark heads remained bent over their task until well into the afternoon and they suddenly realised that they had missed lunch when Harry's stomach let the fact be known with a most disgruntled gurgle. Harry was mortified and flinched violently when Severus looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"Oh good grief, look at the time!" his Guardian exclaimed. "It's no wonder that your innards are attempting to digest you out of revenge! We're a good three hours over due our lunch! Well, I think you have tortured the poor innocent parchment enough with your violent chicken scratches for one day. We shall retire for food and move on to more enjoyable pursuits for the rest of the day. I do believe you have progressed enough to earn a reward - perhaps you would enjoy learning Chess?"

"Umn... I've never played chess before Sir... b-but if you'd teach me I'd... I'd like that" Harry replied.

Severus frowned slightly as he followed the boy through to the main dining area, where they sat at the secluded table and ordered a rich meal of shepherd's pie and vegetables. Harry was still very quiet and shy around him, which in one respect was still to be expected, but he also hoped that their tentative meetings over the last few weeks would have allowed the boy to be more comfortable.

With luck the remaining days before term would provide enough time for them to form the beginnings of a good foundation at least. He could only hope the child wouldn't be a dratted Gryffindor this time next month, he couldn't bear it if he was.

~#~

The last few days flew by. Severus had to return to the school four days before the start of the new school year so he could attend staff meetings and prepare his classroom, but he managed to tutor Harry thoroughly in preparation before he had to go. He also made sure that his ward had a much more extensive wardrobe than just his school robes, and at almost the last minute even managed to reduce the child to abject tears.

"Harry" He said, kneeling before the boy. "Before I leave in a couple of days, I have a suggestion. I know that Tom and Millie have offered to keep Hedwig or Karishma here for you. Well, how about I take one to school for you? That way you can see them almost every day but officially still follow the rules?"

"Really? You'd do that for me?!" Harry gasped, clutching Kari to his chest as she mewled her objection. "Thank you so much Sir"

After much thought he'd decided to send Karishma with his Guardian as Kneazles were notoriously fickle and it would be easy for him to 'adopt' the kitten once at school, Hedwig - his stunning Snowy Owl - was far too noticeable during the mail run for them to try sharing her and nobody notice.

Severus had explained early on that they would have to keep their relationship secret at school. There were many factions that could find fault with him being guardian to 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', and would attempt to take Harry away, and they suspected that the Headmaster would be one of them. After all, he had circumvented the Potter's Will already and although he had claimed when interviewed that he had only done so 'for the greater good', it had yet to go to trial. Goblin Courts were held rarely and only after all evidence was collected and verified, so it could still be months or even a couple of years before this case went to trial.

Harry had agreed readily enough. He was not willing to do anything that would jeopardise his new family. Severus had promised to work with Griphook to find a way for them to spend holidays together with Harry under his disguise as 'Rowan James', and Snape would simply make time when possible at school if any issues arose during term.

Tom had watched, using a silencing charm to hide his chuckles, as Severus and Harry looked into Harry's Family Grimoire. Severus had decided that Harry should know about his family history if he was to survive in a school full of arrogant purebloods.

The young Wizard had been horrified to see that most of his relatives had died young, many under thirty-five even! And almost without exception those that died so young were in Gryffindor House when attending Hogwarts. Well, apart from Kennyth Potter, but the Black Death wasn't picky and there were a few child illnesses and accidents here and there.

He did notice that for the most part the Potters were split between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff - renowned for their loyalty in some form, a smattering of Ravenclaws showed up regularly, but it had been many generations since the last Slytherin Potter had attended Hogwarts. However it was remarkable how many Potters had married Slytherins so it was obvious that they didn't disdain the House of Snakes.

~#~

Harry was more withdrawn than usual when it came to Severus actually leaving, and nothing Tom or Hannah could do could coax him from his room. What made it worse for him was the absence of his beloved Kari. He had already become used to the kitten sleeping on his bed, chasing after his toes and chewing his ears in the morning when she decided it was time for breakfast.

He spent the last four days before heading off for school with Hedwig, whispering with her about his hopes and fears, burying his face in her soft feathers whenever he felt overwhelmed. Her soft calls were calming, and she had taken to nibbling and grooming his hair.

With Tom, he also revealed his true identity and appearance to Jeremy and Hannah, apologising for the subterfuge. They took it remarkably well and continued to treat him as they had when he was 'Rowan', for which he was very grateful.

There was growing worry and gossip about 'Harry Potter' being 'missing' since he hadn't been seen buying his school supplies.

'Hopefully things would calm down soon' He thought as he finalised his packing.

~#~

Tom helped Harry and Hannah floo through to Platform 9 3/4 and find compartments on the train. The young boy stared in awe as they arrived on the platform and Hannah quickly found some friends from primary school. The Hogwarts Express looked like a relic from a bygone era, a gleaming steam engine in red and black livery with matching carriages that all looked like they came direct from a Victorian painting. Once again Harry was reminded of the Wizarding world's odd mix of Medieval and Industrial Revolution in both their mind set and their technologies.

In his carriage Harry settled into an empty seat and pulled out one of his school books to continue his class preparation. He had also realised that other people would generally ignore him if he looked to be engrossed in a book and he could observe without being observed in return.

This was it, he was on the train and he could hear the whistle signifying their departure. He was on his way!


	4. To Hogwarts!

  
Author's notes: Harry catches the Express, meets some familiar faces and is sorted   


* * *

The train had only just set out from the station when Harry's compartment door opened and a flushed red-headed boy looked in, taking in the empty seats.

"Oi, mate, you don't mind if I sit in here do you? Everywhere else is full," he stated more than asked.

Harry just shrugged and went back to his book. He really couldn't care who was there, and he planned on ignoring the other boy anyway. As such, he paid no attention as the red-head huffed and puffed and grunted as he struggled with his school trunk, dragging it in the most ungainly way.

Turning the page in his book, Harry snorted internally at all the drama. He assumed this boy must be Muggle-born as he hadn't had his parents cast a Feather-Light charm on the chest or shrink it to pocket size. Thus he was highly surprised to see the other boy pull out a Quidditch magazine.

Unfortunately, his cabin-mate saw his surprised look and took the opportunity to launch into conversation, leaving Harry with nothing to do but join in for the sake of basic manners.

"Alright mate? Who do you thinks' got a chance this year then? I favour Chudley Cannons myself. Oh, Ron, Ron Weasley by the way," the red-head said, offering a slightly sticky hand in greeting.

"I... ah... don't know about Quidditch," Harry lied as convincingly as he could. He, Griphook and Tom had discussed it in depth and decided it was best if Harry appeared to be a reasonably clueless Muggle-raised Wizard as was expected of him. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

He resisted rolling his eyes as Ron nearly swallowed his tongue at this revelation. Gently taking his hand back he picked his book up again, hoping to get back to his studies, but of course this was not meant to be.

"So is it real? Did you do it? Kill You-Know-Who I mean?" the red-head babbled. "It must be so cool being famous - do you get loads of free stuff? Can I see the scar? Is it really gruesome?"

By this point Harry was resisting just getting up and leaving the compartment to escape the barrage of invasive questions. As it was, he just stayed quiet and hoped the other boy would calm down soon. Sighing, he parted his hair to show the lightning bolt scar.

"I-I don't remember anything about it, don't know much about it at all really. Did you grow up in a Wizarding house? What was that like?"

Ron stared at Harry in amazement; he couldn't understand why the 'Boy-Who-Lived' would be interested in boring things like that, surely there would be far more exciting tales of adventures, or strange tales of life among the Muggles. However he decided to play along, since his mum had told him that he had to befriend Harry no matter what, and make a good impression.

Harry was happier for a short while. He managed to get Ron talking about de-gnoming the garden and extolling the wonders of Quidditch and Wizard's Chess. Once the larger boy was set off on a topic he enjoyed, it allowed Harry to once more retreat and observe, to try and learn about his traveling companion without actually needing to interact.

After what seemed like an eternity, there was a knock at the door and the snack trolley arrived, pushed by a kindly older woman. Harry soon bought a wide selection as the sweets were all very cheap. It only cost two galleons for one or two of everything on the cart. Seeing that Ron had only managed to buy a solitary Cauldron Cake, Harry decided to be generous and offered to share his stash.

Over the course of the journey so far he had noticed that the red-head had clean but very well worn clothes that were neatly but frequently repaired. His shoes and outer robes were new, so it was obvious that he didn't come from abject poverty but was not well off either.

"Hey, Ron? It seems I got the exchange rate wrong... would you like to help me eat this lot?" Harry offered shyly.

Despite finding it hard to trust and not being too sure about this boy, Harry was eager to make friends through his school experience. He had taken a few days to warm to Hannah but now a definite, if tentative, friendship was forming with her and he liked the feeling.

However, that feeling of generosity was soon fading as the other boy started to grab the better sweets for himself and trying to get Harry to eat the Every Flavour Beans. The way Ron guzzled the chocolate snacks reminded Harry unpleasantly of Dudley. Just as he was thinking again of leaving the carriage to 'find the loo' or some other such excuse they were interrupted by a knock and the door opening as a bushy-haired girl and a nervous looking boy came in.

"Oh hello!" the girl said, very energetically. "I was just wondering if you had seen a toad at all, Neville lost his you see."

Harry and Ron shook their heads apologetically.

"You really ought to keep it in a case or cage, mate, if you can't trust it not to run off." Ron offered.

"We've had the door shut, I can...umm... help you look?" Harry offered shyly. Anything to get away from the red-head at this point. "What does it look like?"

"Oh thanks!" the nervous looking boy behind the girl replied. "He's called Trevor and he's brown with yellow splodges on his belly and legs and really big yellow eyes."

As the outgoing girl and nervous boy continued to search the passenger compartments, Harry went to search the kitchens, slipping past the snack cart lady and the porter, where he soon found Trevor munching away happily on a large piece of 'Cockroach-Clusters'. Scooping him up, Harry presented him to an ecstatic Neville who immediately checked his pet over for any hint of injury. Seeing that he was healthy, he popped him back into his carry tank and made sure the lid was on securely, fastening some string around where a catch had broken earlier and let him out before.

"Would...would you like to stay here for a little while?" Harry offered shyly, he was drawn to the equally awkward seeming brown haired boy - Neville, and the girl seemed insecure under her brash attitude. "I think I might... have some sweets left."

Harry looked at the sea of empty wrappers where Ron had obviously continued to help himself while Harry was out on the Trevor-hunting mission. With a sigh he swept the empty wrappers into a bag and stashed them to one side, offering the remaining sweets to his two guests. After they had each taken something they all sat down to talk.

"I'm Harry. Are you excited about going to Hogwarts?" he asked, smiling nervously.

"I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger," the bushy haired girl replied, shaking his hand briskly. "I've read all our course books so many times I'm sure I've memorised them. Oh, and I practised some of the spells until I got a letter from the Ministry of Magic about that being illegal! That was so scary! But no-one told me and I didn't know as I'm the first Witch in our family that anyone knows of... but then I was reading about the Statute of Secrecy so maybe there were others but they couldn't tell us? Anyway...," she trailed off, flushing.

"Umm... I'm Neville, Neville Longbottom," the nervous boy said in the awkward silence. "I'm Heir to the Ancient House of Longbottom but my family thought I was a Squib so I haven't really looked at the books much. I'm looking forward to Herbology though. I ... ah ... really like plants."

Harry smiled slightly, though it was a little forced. He found Hermione overwhelming, but he could also read her body language quite clearly and it just screamed how nervous she really was. Screwing up his courage, he pushed forward rather than just observing. He was drawn to her for some reason he didn't understand.

"I know, when you're not used to the Wizarding world it's so exciting but scary. No-one shows up to tell you about it so you just find out what you can, don't you? I read all my books too and I got some about Wizarding culture and traditions. A friend recommended them to me," he said, eyes lit up with sincerity.

"I know!" Hermione replied, calming down a little as she realised he was a kindred soul. "I got something like twenty letters telling me about Hogwarts in January on my birthday and just after. It wasn't until Professor Sprout - she'll be one of our teachers - came to see me and my parents that they would believe that it wasn't a hoax. I mean, sure, I'd had some weird things happen around me but we didn't realise it was magic. It just didn't seem likely, we thought magic was make-believe!"

The two pureblood children winced at the idea of anyone believing magic was imaginary. They could no more understand that viewpoint than the Muggle-raised could understand why the Wizarding children were baffled by electricity.

"They don't tell you anything about the Wizarding world?! How do they expect you to cope?" Neville looked shocked.

"I think they just expect us to pick it up as we go along, it's all very silly and very disorganised," Hermione sniffed. "Harry, may I look at your books on customs and traditions later? It would be ever so helpful."

"Sure," he nodded.

"Which House do you think you'll go in?" Hermione asked excitedly, "I'm hoping for Gryffindor - according to 'Hogwarts: A History' that's the House that gave the world some of its greatest Wizards and Witches like Headmaster Dumbledore and Barabbas Trimble, the Wizard who created the vaccination for Dragon Pox!"

Neville blushed, knuckles turning white as he gripped Trevor's tank. "My-my Gran wants me to go in Gryffindor too; it's the House my p-parents were in. T-they'd be proud, she said. If-if they knew," he stuttered out shyly. 

"I'll be Gryffindor!" Ron put in, not paying any attention to the fact he had been ignored up until this point. "Weasleys are always in Gryffindor, Lions through and through - that's us! You'd be best sticking with me, mate, I'll see you right."

Harry snorted; folding his book closed carefully and placed it to one side, smiling slightly before he spoke.

"Looks like I'm the odd one out then. I want to go anywhere but Gryffindor, I looked up my family history over the summer and virtually none of my ancestors that were also in Gryffindor got past the age of thirty, maybe thirty-five. I want to get to at least middle-aged which according to my research on Wizard and Witches is between eighty and a hundred and fifteen," he smiled at a nervous looking Neville. "What do you think your Gran would prefer? A brave-but-dead Gryffindor grandson or a sensible, loyal, hardworking and alive Hufflepuff grandson with umpty-odd children?"

This made both Hermione and Neville look thoughtful; they hadn't really thought about it from that point of view. Hermione had to admit most of the 'Famous Gryffindors' she had read about had died young, heroic deaths and Neville couldn't help but think of his parents on the Spell Damage ward in St. Mungos. However, Harry's little speech had a much different effect on Ron.

"Why you dirty little creep! Did you just say that being Gryffindor is a bad thing?! I'll show you! I bet you're a slimy, sneaky, cowardly Slytherin... going 'round and telling lies!" the red-head bellowed, launching himself at the smaller boy.

Harry managed to roll out of the way of the first lunge but caught a glancing blow to his cheek as he got to his feet. He managed to shove the larger boy back and was raising his own fists, not sure how to defend himself when he saw the wand in the other boy's hands, when a flash of light briefly blinded him and Ron fell backwards with a yelp. Turning, Harry saw the blonde boy from the robe shop step into the compartment.

"How like a Gryffindor," he sneered. "Attacking a weaker opponent without thought. Look at you, second hand clothes, red hair, jumping in to the fray without thought? Must be a Weasley."

"I-I know you, you're Malfoy, son of a murderer! You're death eating scum!" Ron spat out, raising his wand.

Harry just backed off; he didn't want to get involved in a fight, especially not with magic since he barely knew any spells yet. He stood back against the wall of the compartment, slightly crouched and wishing as hard as he could that they would just stop, that the red headed boy would just leave them alone!

When no-one in the apartment made any move to help the Weasley boy, Draco smirked before standing to one side and gesturing gallantly.

"It would seem you are the unwelcome one, Weasley, I think you should leave before you make more of a fool of yourself," the blonde sneered.

Ron stormed out of the compartment, flushed and indignant - muttering about 'getting them back' and something about the 'twins'. Hermione was looking at Draco with a mix of awe at his skill and disgust at his snotty attitude. So far he had been no better than the red-headed prat that just left.

"I heard Harry Potter was on the train, thought I'd introduce myself. Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, pleased to meet you," Draco held his hand out to Harry, his eyes flickering briefly to his scar.

"The pleasure's mine Master Malfoy," Harry replied, shaking his hand politely. "May I introduce my travelling companions? Master Neville Longbottom, Heir to the Ancient House of Longbottom and Miss Hermione Granger. We were just discussing which Houses we thought we may end up in."

"Really?" Draco drawled. "May I join you?" At their affirmative nods he sat opposite Harry and Hermione and indicated for one of the others to continue.

"Well...," Harry said, once again quite shy with the attention on him. "I was just saying I don't mind any House other than Gryffindor - bravery is fine but foolishness will just end my family line and serve no-one in the long run. From what I've read I think I'll be in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. I'm hard-working enough for Hufflepuff but I don't work well in a team, I don't trust easily enough." he blushed, not used to being so open.

"I say!" Draco exclaimed. "You have thought this through! Of course, I will be in Slytherin. All Malfoys that have attended Hogwarts in the last four-hundred years have been in Salazar's House."

He looked at Neville and Hermione, raising an eyebrow in question. It almost made Harry burst out laughing; it was so much like Severus that he wondered if it was a trick taught to all Slytherins and those expecting to go into that House.

"I... I was hoping to go into Gryffindor, it was expected of me," Neville said, confidence growing as he wasn't ridiculed. "But thinking about it I think my best place would be in Hufflepuff, I'm all about being in a team and hard work."

"I think I'll be in Ravenclaw. I really like to study and if Gryffindors are like that boy," Hermione shuddered. "I don't think I would get any studying done!"

Draco had to bite back a couple of retorts, his father had told him to try and make friends with Potter and anyone that 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' seemed partial too. If that meant holding his tongue and being polite he would try, at least for now. Also, their arguments seemed sound and he supposed some children had to end up in Hufflepuff somehow.

They passed the rest of the journey in friendly conversation and finding out more about each other. Draco was the only one to notice that Harry barely spoke and held himself very much on the edge of the group, trying desperately to fully join in, but always ready to flee. It sparked his curiosity and he made a mental note to speak to his Godfather at school or write home to Father for advice.

~#~

In Riddle Manor there was a heavy air, the entire mansion shrouded in an air of gloom and desperation.

In the library a tall, lithe, figure searched continuously among the vast collection of books, many were spread across the reading tables or marked with ribbons and scrolls of cramped notes lay among them.

Voldemort had spent the last few years since his resurrection desperately searching for a way to find out what had been done to him. He knew that he had been controlled; his actions and memories altered, but had no proof of when or how.

If he had retained his original body he may have had a chance, but this new body had no trace of the spell work and there were only the faintest of shadows on his magical core. The bonus was that with the new body he was no longer under the behavioural and compulsion charms so he was able to find a way to try and reverse the damage.

Unfortunately, many decades of insanity had taken their toll and his progress was hampered by his tenuous control and fits of rage. Many rooms of the manor and several Death Eaters had suffered the brunt of his bursts of temper, and though he would never admit it to anyone, not even Severus or Lucius, he was scared by this lack of control over himself.

Along with the damage to his mental faculties he also suffered from severe emotional stress and anxieties leaving him an insomniac and paranoid, hence the many hours spent in his library. One of the side effects of regaining his sanity was a deep sense of horror and guilt over his years of terrible madness. It was due to these late night wanderings that he finally came across a slim volume, highlighted by a single stray moonbeam one night.

"The Magical Mind: A Journey Within"

Within the slender book he found the key to everything, a simple elixir that would reveal all that had touched his magic. The hard parts would be collecting the ingredients, brewing compounds that had not been seen for over five-hundred years using only a description and mastering the mental disciplines of the Thakalis of Nepal.

Despite it being only mid-afternoon, Voldemort took the book to his private rooms and slid it under his pillow, laying down he made plans until he managed to fall into the first truly restful sleep he had had in over a year, ever since the potions had lost their effectiveness on his new body. He had never felt guilty before and never lost any sleep over his deeds but since his rebirth the memories tore at his very soul.

~#~

Severus anxiously paced his dungeon suite as he waited for the students to arrive for the year. 

He had already discussed how he would have to behave in public with Harry and that he hated his foul tempered and vicious tempered persona that had developed over the last ten years while teaching in the school. Unfortunately, he couldn't change too suddenly, and the impulses were still too strong to totally overcome anyway. He would start attempting to moderate himself but it would be difficult against the compulsions. He still hadn't found the triggers or how the spells were being cast.

His preparation for the new school year was done, lesson plans organised and for the first time in over five years he had revamped the course layout for all years. He had a feeling his students would be in for a rather large surprise this year.

As usual, he had booked the first Saturday of term with Madam Pomfrey for his First Years and a few of his more 'at risk' students to get a full check-up. He then had several afternoons booked throughout the first half term to get the yearly physical he required for everyone in his house. He was astounded that the only other House to require such a thing was Hufflepuff; he had spent the previous afternoon with both Poppy and Pomona Sprout discussing the schedule to make sure it suited everybody.

He had also gained permission from Poppy for Healer Witherhorne to visit, along with the Curse-Breaker she had procured; when they would come would depend on the results of Harry's physical. Severus had made it clear that whatever House his ward was to be placed in he would be getting the same care and attention as his own little Snakes.

Harry had been to see his private Healer several times over the course of the summer; unfortunately he hadn't healed as quickly as she had hoped due to the strain his magical core had suffered through in keeping him alive. As such, she was wary about treating the 'shadow' attached to it until he was stronger and had ended up having to wait until after school had started. He still had some weight to gain but his organs were now within normal functioning ranges and he was beginning to grow rapidly. Hopefully, by Christmas they would have reversed almost all the years of damage, by the end of First Year certainly.

The glass he held as he paced shattered as he gripped too hard in his anger. He still could not believe that no checks had been performed on the boy. Not even by Muggle authorities. Surely there was some program to monitor adopted children or those in foster care? Especially when a magical child is placed in a non-magical home, though he still thought that was foolishness of the highest degree.

Surely a better option would have been a heavy glamour and place him as a Wizarding orphan in a magical home, under an alias of course. That would have kept the secret of his identity for his safety and that of his new family easily enough but also kept him healthy and aware of his world.

Snape snarled as he set about cleaning his now injured hand. The old fool had ruined his life and that of an innocent boy, and who knew how many others. The damned coot seemed to mean well but so far not a single plan that Severus had seen had worked out right.

By the time all the slivers of glass were removed and the fine cuts healed it was time to go to the final staff meeting before going to the great hall. Snape shook his head and cleared his thought, focusing on the business at hand. Tonight was going to be a long one and he needed to be on top of his game.

~#~

The children had only just managed to get into their new uniforms and straightened out when the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station. As they got off the train they could see that they were in what looked to be a fairly typical Victorian Highland village, actually somewhat more modern than Diagon Alley but only because it was less crowded and cleaner.

There was a very large man up near the front of the train, not far from some carriages in a huge line.

"Firs' Years! Firs' Years over 'ere!" he bellowed. "Leave yer bags, they'll be in yer dorms for yer later."

Harry followed Draco and the others as they joined the group around the enormous man. He led them along a winding path until they reached the pebble beach at the side of a large loch where several boats were lined up. Once instructed to get in, in groups of four Harry made sure that he got into the same one as Draco, Hermione and Neville and studiously ignored Ron who looked both furious and strangely devastated.

"Don't worry about him," Draco sneered. "He just wants to be friends with you for fame and money, he's poor. If he could say he was best friends with 'Harry Potter' then he could stand out and be noticed for a change,"

"You're Harry Potter?!" Hermione squeaked. "Of course! Why didn't I realise before?! I read all about you in one of my books... it said..."

"All lies!" Harry interrupted sharply; he had read about himself in a couple of books and nearly set fire to the Leaky Cauldron when his anger caused his accidental magic to set one alight.

"I was fifteen months old! I didn't do anything! No-one else was there so it's all just guess work. I found out from the Auror's reports all they really know is - I was found in my crib with the bodies of my Mum and Voldemort next to me. I had this stupid wound on my head and was crying for my mummy to 'wake up'!" he gasped, suddenly pale. "I think my Mum protected me somehow. She killed the Dark Lord and I just survived. It's my fault she's dead and she's the hero, not me... I'm just a kid."

He was hunched in on himself by the time he had finished talking, eyes flickering between the other occupants of the boat as he shook with nerves. He found it incredibly difficult to speak out still after years of suppressing any reactions. He had read several accounts of his parent's 'heroic sacrifice' over the summer and had convinced himself that it was his fault they had died as they had done so attempting to protect him. 

Hermione was horrified by what she had caused and the other two boys were just shocked, they had grown up hearing stories of Harry's 'heroics' and had never thought of it from the other boy's perspective.

"I-I'm so sorry, Harry!" Hermione gasped, pale and eyes wide. "I-I didn't think. I hope you'll forgive me, I was so stupid to not even question it."

The green eyed boy could only nod slightly, he could see her sincerity and could forgive this once but it had hurt. Tom and Severus had tried to warn him what to expect but it still hurt. It was just so unfair that people considered him a hero and virtually no-one mentioned his parents or saw past this plastic 'ideal' they had built in their heads.

Just then they came round a curve in the bank to reveal a huge castle, late medieval in style and fairly forbidding in the early evening gloom.

~#~

The first years were all crowded together in a large anteroom waiting to enter the Great Hall for Sorting into their new Houses. Everyone had different theories about how they sorted first years, from written tests to tests of magical or physical prowess. A few thought that a spell was cast on each student or that they had to drink a potion that would give the answer.

Possibly the most outlandish was Ronald Weasley's idea that you had to fight a troll, which just made Harry snort as he turned to Neville who was shaking in fear.

"Fight a troll? How would that sort you? Those that survive go into Hogwarts, those that are seriously maimed go to St. Mungos and those who are dead are posted home?" he muttered, loud enough that several nearby children giggled.

It astounded him that no-one knew, surely the pure and half-blooded children would have been told by their parents? Or older siblings? Judging by the smug looks on a few faces he could tell that they did indeed know.

"It is perfectly safe," Draco whispered to his new friends. "They simply put a semi-sentient old hat on you that is charmed to pick out your predominant traits and place you into the best House for you."

They were prevented from replying by a group of ghosts floating through and shocking many of the children, as well as the appearance of a pinch-faced older Witch in severe green robes. She took them through to the large hall where all the other students were already sitting at four huge tables and the staff were sitting on another table on a raised platform.

The stern looking Witch, Professor McGonagall, told them to stay where they were while she went to the front and called them one by one. As they waited the children were distracted by the enchanted ceiling, twinkling above them as a night sky. Harry ignored the opening speeches and the waffling song by the tattered old hat on the stool. Instead he picked out constellations above him and kept a wary eye on the older students and teachers. He was startled out of his reverie when he suddenly heard the actual Sorting start with a call of 'Abbot, Hannah' from the dour Deputy Headmistress.

He cheered as the Hat put her into Hufflepuff; she had been hoping for there all summer and he just knew she would fit right in. He also cheered as her best friend Susan Bones joined her. He tuned out again until Hermione was called and she almost skipped to the front of the hall, garnering giggles from the tables of students, she seemed to be arguing with the hat quite fiercely before it gave in with a cry of -

"RAVENCLAW!"

And she scampered to her new table with a huge smile and a thumbs up to Harry and Neville.

Then it was Neville's turn and he made his way up with a worried look on his face before it was hidden by the Hat.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

And he was nearly running off to the table of the Badgers before darting back, red faced, to give McGonagall the Hat back and back to his table among much good natured laughter.

It was soon Draco's turn and the Hat barely touched his head before he was smiling and heading off to his rightful home after the cry of -

"SLYTHERIN"

"Knew he'd go there," Ron muttered bitterly. "He's Dark, an evil, slimy git."

Harry simply ignored him, his heart hammering as he waited his turn. What if the Hat put him in Gryffindor? Or Hufflepuff? Ok... the Badgers may be alright, he got on well enough with Hannah and Neville. McGonagall seemed as severe and harsh as his Aunt Petunia though, and she'd introduced herself as Head of Gryffindor - they were so noisy and pushy, smothering each new student that joined them. He couldn't bear it if he went there!

"Potter, Harry!" she called, a sharp edge making him think she'd already called once. He quickly scooted up to the stool and sat down as the hat covered his eyes.

-Oh, what do we have here then?- a strange, clothy, sort of voice asked.

"Umm.... hello?" Harry thought he might be going mad.

-Oh no, young Master Potter, you are most certainly not going mad. I am the Sorting Hat! Now let's see, you are very brave, plenty of courage to come here after everything. You could do very well in Gryffindor...-

"Oh no!" Harry was frantic. "Not there! Anywhere but there! Please!"

-No? It was your parent's house you know... very well. You are very loyal and hunger for knowledge so either the Badger or the Raven would welcome you... but no, I think you know where you want to be. It has taken great cunning and resourcefulness to survive as you have, to make it on your own and to control your magic. If you're sure you don't want Gryffindor...-

"Quite sure, thank you!"

-Well then, better be- "SLYTHERIN" the Hat suddenly bellowed.

Harry sighed in relief, carefully taking the Hat off and handing it gently to the stunned looking Professor before going over to sit by Draco. He almost giggled at the stunned silence and the horrified look on the Headmaster's face. He just knew that everyone had expected him to be a Lion and here he was in the house of Snakes.

He risked a small smile at Sev and was happy to see the warmth in his Guardian's eyes. He was so busy settling in he missed the rest of the Sorting entirely and only realised something was happening when the Headmaster suddenly went completely insane and said -

"Bobbity, Ibbity, Peeble and Snit!"

The young green eyed Wizard turned to Draco, utterly baffled, just as food appeared on the table.

"Don't look at me, Potter!" the blonde laughed. "I have it on good authority he went completely insane in around 1962, at least that's the last time anyone actually witnessed him making any sense."

This made Harry snort as he helped himself to the amazing array of food before him. While he had gained weight and become used to eating during his stay in Diagon Alley he hadn't been used to fare like this. His eyes kept flickering around the room, eyeing both pupils and staff up in a preliminary threat assessment.

When his eyes skimmed over the staff again he suddenly felt a fierce, stabbing pain, causing him to gasp and drop his fork, though he waved Draco off . Rubbing his scar, he frowned; that was different. The only teachers he had noticed looking his way were the new defence teacher... Squirrel? Or whatever his name was... and Severus. Shrugging, he finished his meal in near silence before waiting to be taken to his new common room and dorms.

~#~

It was after dinner in the Hufflepuff common room and Neville looked around with a smile. 

Down in the Dungeon levels the 'Badger Set' as it was affectionately known was a cosy space despite its large size. The walls were stone hung with warm tapestries in yellows and browns, while the floor was covered in black and yellow rugs that added to the comfortable nature of the room. Black sofas and huge yellow beanbags provided plenty of seating and lush pot plants along with large charmed windows prevented the room from feeling like a dungeon.

Neville could tell he would feel right at home here and settled on the beanbags with the other first years as Professor Sprout came in to welcome them.

"Oh hello and a warm welcome to our new little friends and a welcome back to our older Cubs," she beamed around the gathered children. "Just a short greeting tonight as I'm sure you are all tired and everything is a bit overwhelming for those not used to the School. You are now members of Hufflepuff, the house of the Badgers! We value hard work, team work and honesty. We are a family here and every one of you should be able to count on each other as a brother or sister and on myself as an Auntie if you like. If you have any questions or worries you can go to anyone of the older house members but especially your prefects, Alice Lusby and Jayden Brandon-Hicks, or myself. No matter how small you think it is! Remember, a problem shared is a problem halved!" 

Now, Second years and up the Quidditch trials schedule will be on the board next weekend along with notices for the Gardening Club, Games Club, Crafts Club and of course the signup sheet for Mascot Duty. First years, you can sign up for anything except Quidditch, I'm sure everyone will tell you about the clubs.

Now come along, it's time for everyone to head to their dorms to settle in and settle down. Yes Mr Cornwallis, even you seventh years. It's been a busy day and I want everyone bright and alert for showing our Baby Cubs around the Castle tomorrow."

With that, she clapped her hands and escorted the first years to their new rooms, ensuring everyone found the right beds and their trunks. A few children had enchanted orbs put in place, hovering just below their corn-yellow canopies, to ward off nightmares and the Professor showed them how to stroke the upright of their four-poster bed to light up a glowing guide line that led to the bathroom in case they needed to go in the night so they wouldn't stumble into a dorm-mate's bed or into the common room.

Neville couldn't help but smile as he snuggled down into bed, the warm hug from his new Head of House and the softly glowing ball made him feel very safe and loved as he settled in for his first night. He also discovered when he drew his bed curtains closed that the faint ball also played a very quiet lullaby, quickly soothing him to sleep, dreaming of the wonderful plants and magic he would discover here.

~#~

Hermione was awed by the Ravenclaw common room up in the airy tower.

Every inch of wall that wasn't a door or a window displaying the amazing panoramic views was covered in bookcases. A door in the large windows lead out to a caged balcony set up as a music and art studio in the fresh air. Lillian Johnson, the Ravenclaw prefect, explained it was spelled to be weather repellent so it could be used in any weather.

Plush chairs and sofas in browns and blues were scattered around the room creating cosy groups for socialising or group study, while an internal balcony provided a 'quiet study area' above.

Professor Flitwick soon joined them and was standing on the stairs leading to the balcony so he could be seen easily.

"Ah, so many faces, both new and old. I am glad to welcome our new Fledglings to the Nest. As Ravenclaws you are the Seekers of Knowledge but take care you are not lost in the wonderful world of books! To ensure you remember us all we shall be having weekly 'quiz shows' and games as well as the study groups and of course the Quidditch team try outs will be soon for second years and up. The Art, Music, Dance and Chess clubs are open to all years and those lower shelves contain all manner of board games.

My little Fledglings - if you have any problems please see myself or one of your prefects; I see they have introduced themselves already. I will leave you know to settle in and find your rooms but will be back in an hour to make sure everything is ok for lights out, yes! For all years. First night back is hectic enough and there is no need for studying just yet, Miss Donahue."

As Hermione settled down in her blue and brown four-poster she was almost shaking with excitement - all that beautiful knowledge out there for her to start exploring! Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

~#~

Back down in the dungeons Harry stuck by Draco as they followed the Slytherin prefects to their own common room.

Inside was decorated as a Gothic masterpiece crossed with a comfortable lounge. Heavy carved pillars divided the walls into segments that held either doorways, cupboards, plush wall hangings in green, black and silver or bookshelves. One side of the room held a duelling platform which one of the prefects said was automatically warded to prevent stray spell-fire. The rest of the room was filled with thick dark green carpets covered in black sofas and green chairs. The ceiling had a charmed pane looking out into the lake.

Professor Snape came in, his robes swirling dramatically behind him, as he welcomed his new students.

"Welcome back to my previous students and greetings to you, my new Snakes," he drawled, looking over them carefully. "You are now members of the proud and noble house of Slytherin. As you may know, others in this school often distrust us, look down on us and suspect us with no reason or evidence. Because of this, the first and most important rule in my House is - this House is your family! Outside these rooms you stick together, back each other up and watch each other's backs. Never argue or fight in public, no matter what differences you have in here, out there we are united.

"I have an announcement to make regarding that: I am sick and tired of our house being vilified for no good reason. The desire to lead is not a crime and we are no more separate than Ravenclaw. However, to strengthen our position within the school and place fewer...restrictions... on some of our graduating students in the future, I will be starting some projects with you over the coming months to foster relationships outside our House.

"As usual the Quidditch trials are open to second years and above, but coaching sessions for all years will be starting October. The Duelling club is open to years four and above but will only run when I am available to supervise, as before. The Games, Art, Music and Crafts clubs are open to all years and are run by the sixth years.

"First years with me, let's get you settled into your dorms. I trust the rest of you can prove to be sentient beings rather than complete dunderheads and be in your own rooms within the next two hours? Good." he nodded as he lead the first years to their dorms.

He soon had them by their assigned beds, showed them their bathrooms and where the dorm rules were posted. Like the Hufflepuffs, they had the guide lights that could be activated by stroking a certain part of their four poster, in their case a carving of a snake, which would lead them to the bathroom after lights out. Once everyone was in their nightwear, Severus did a bed check to make sure they were all ok and to provide the gently glowing orbs for anyone feeling the pressure of being underground or just lonely and scared on their first night.

He had made sure Harry and Draco were next to each other and Harry was in a corner so he felt as secure as possible. As he gave his ward an orb he also cast a quick spell, explaining as he did so.

"This spell is a protective ward, like a curtain, around your bed. It will emit a chime if anyone other than you tries to open your curtains or get in your bed. It will also alert me in case you need me. Otherwise, the prefects showed you all my office on the way down here, if you need anything - day or night - come find me there. It leads through to my private quarters so I will hear you. Is everything alright?" the severe Potions Master asked.

"Yes Sir," Harry flushed, looking down. "T-thank you, for your help, and - and remembering about the light."

Snape sighed; he had managed to get the information out of Harry about his phobia of the dark and was happy to be able to provide at least this for him. It would be a long time before the boy would trust him - or any adult for that matter - but hopefully this was a step forward.

With a goodnight to both Harry and his Godson, Snape headed to his own quarters, smiling as he noted the older Slytherins were already heading to bed themselves. They were sensible enough to know the next day would be a long one.

A quick flick of his wand as he left the common room set the alerts for wandering students and the morning alarms to make sure his Snakes were all up and alert in time for breakfast. No slovenly dressed or rushing children at the tables in his House.

He settled down in his own bed; an early night on the first day was a rule he enforced for himself too. He wondered if Hogwarts knew what had hit it with both Harry Potter and the Malfoy Heir in Slytherin; it looked like the next seven years would be interesting.


	5. First Day

  
Author's notes: Harry's first day of classes don't go as expected.  


* * *

Harry woke with a start, looking around the unfamiliar surroundings warily before remembering that he was now in Hogwarts. Opening the heavy drapes around his bed he could see that the other boys were still asleep, their curtains drawn and in the case of at least two of them the sounds of snoring confirmed this.

He was in a dorm of eight, the room was very large and each boy had their own area. During the early morning quiet Harry took the opportunity to examine the room in a bit more detail, from what he had read it would seem that his year was quite small compared to years past, but considering the country was at war during the years surrounding his birth that was quite understandable and it would be a few years before classes at Hogwarts increased back to their past average numbers.

As it was, all the first year Slytherin boys were in one dorm, they would split into smaller rooms as they got older according to Hogwarts: A History. Harry had his bed in the corner furthest from the door, next to him was Draco in an identical four poster bed with heavy green velvet drapes, opposite the beds were the shared drawers, wardrobe and dressing table for the two beds, each divided equally and with privacy charms to prevent theft or pranks.

The next two beds held Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini, two quiet boys that Harry had yet to truly meet, then Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle and the last two beds, nearest the door and apparently the least desired, held Corbin Bole and Reginald Bletchley. 

Draco had whispered pieces of information about each of the other first years to Harry during the feast the night before and he knew that both Bole and Bletchley had older brothers in Slytherin but their general tardiness had earned them the least liked beds as they had been too busy talking to their brothers rather than following Professor Snape to the dorm. He had also discovered that Draco had known Vincent and Greg since they were very young and had met Blaise several times over the years as their parents all moved in the same social circles.

Harry had also been given snippets of information about the first year girls in his new House, though there were only six this year. Draco only personally knew two of them, had heard a bit about another two and nothing at all of the last one which led him to think she was Muggle-Born, a fact which was apparently very rare in Slytherin. Pansy Parkinson was another friend of Draco’s when growing up and he had met Daphne Greengrass on occasion. He had heard of both Tracey Davies’ family and Millicent Bulstrode’s family but never actually met with them before. Ebony Kershaw was unknown and from her awestruck demeanour she was not used to wizarding architecture or environments, the fact she wore glasses also indicated a non-magical upbringing.

Harry was shaken out of his musings when a chime went off, waking his roommates. He jumped out of bed and quickly washed himself before getting dressed in his new school uniform. He was still struggling with his new green and silver tie when Draco finished his own morning routine and came over to help.

“Really Potter” the young blonde sniffed, “One would think you had been raised by apes by looking at you! No… stop that, just stand still and let me fix it.”

“Draco!” Harry tried once more to stop the other boy fussing.

Undeterred by the darker boy’s protests Draco quickly knotted and straightened his tie and followed up by pulling his uniform straight and even tidying his hair.

“Seriously Harry,” the young pureblood offered, “This is something Mother taught me from birth, Professor Snape likes his Snakes to be well presented at all times as well and it only took a minute. Now come on… we don’t want to be late for breakfast today of all days! We’re getting class schedules and today is our orientation, our only day being guided around the school by the older years and we get to meet all our teachers! Come on!”

Harry could do nothing but follow the blonde whirlwind. To be honest he found it quite refreshing and was managing to ‘go with the flow’ as Tom advised far easier than he had expected. Some instinct told him that he could trust Draco, Hermione and Neville more than anyone he had ever met before - other than Tom that is, and Professor Snape come to think of it.

Although he still struggled to show that trust to the adults at least, he could already feel the past fading even further behind him.

~#~

Harry was once again awed by the Great Hall, he had been too tired and overwhelmed the night before to take in the magnificent medieval architecture and the grand nature of the room, it reminded him of the pictures he had seen of the grand dining halls at Kings College and other ancient places of learning, or even a cathedral.

He gave a tentative wave when he saw Neville sitting at the Hufflepuff table with Hannah and Susan and another boy he vaguely recognised from the day before, Justin someone or other, and was pleased when they waved back. The dark haired boy was beginning to think he liked the idea of ‘friends’ and looked forward to furthering his relationships with the other children.

After a good sized breakfast of porridge, bacon, eggs and toast – a combination that Harry had become quite fond of while staying at the Leaky Cauldron – he received his timetable both for the orientation day (unlike normal days he would see all of his classrooms and meet all his teachers today) and his regular class schedule. Frankly he was shocked by how few classes he had over the course of a week, he had commented on it when first getting his books and was now reminded of it.

Out of curiosity he had looked up the local comprehensive school in Little Whinging, that was where he had been expecting to go when Dudley headed off to Smelting’s for his own private education, the comprehensive was free to attend and had a free bus service so his Aunt and Uncle couldn’t prevent him going there. 

Draco noticed the odd mix of amusement and disgust as Harry studied the timetable and wondered what caused it.

“What’s wrong Harry? Are the classes not to your liking?” he joked, smirking slightly. “I can understand why, I mean… potions with the Gryffindorks!? Though could be worse, could be the Hufflepuffs, at least the lions probably won't cry when Professor Snape looks at them.” he sneered.

“Well, not wrong… so much as, well… there’s not many classes are there?” Harry pointed out, he had confided a little in Draco during their conversation the day before and the blonde knew that he had been raised by Muggles – though nothing of the abuse.

“What other classes would you need?” Draco looked honestly confused.

“If I had gone to a Muggle Comprehensive School instead of here then I may well have had a timetable made up of eleven or more classes throughout the week, depending on the time of year” Harry replied seriously “One school I looked at listed the classes for the first two years as Science – which is Biology, Physics and Chemistry, English, Maths, Technology – which is crafting skills, Home Technology – sewing and cooking, Art, Humanities – History, Geography and Ethics, Religious Education, German or French, Physical Education and Music…!”

Draco gaped, not caring about how his mouth hung open in shock. Both Blaise and Pansy looked stunned by the list, they had never heard anything about Muggle schooling, or – to be frankly honest – had they ever been interested, but this made it sound like a Muggle school rivalled Hogwarts for quality!

“Was… was that a premier school as well then?” Draco finally managed.

“Oh no” Harry answered carelessly, “That was the free school near where I grew up, my cousin is at an ‘Exclusive’ School and they also study Latin, Grammar, Politics and Elocution from first year… sounds pretty dull really.”

The purebloods all swallowed nervously and looked down at their timetables and the classes listed there, it suddenly seemed very… empty. 

Transfiguration  
Charms  
Potions  
History of Magic  
Herbology  
Flying  
Astronomy  
Defence Against the Dark Arts

There was nothing artistic, nothing creative or about practical craft, nothing for basic life skills like maths or communication, it was all very well for those well off enough to employ accountants or servants to handle the day to day running of things but what about everybody else?

They were shaken from their thoughts when the fifth year students came to show them around the school and answer any questions they had about the school, the teachers, the classes or anything else they wanted to know.

~#~

The fifth years were very efficient in guiding their young charges around the school, warning them about such hazards as the moving staircases, the animate suits of armour, the Whomping Willow and other hazardous plants as well as showing them a few shortcuts and tips such as asking the portraits for help when needed – with a well-placed reminder that manners help a lot in this situation.

Felicity Whitlow, a Fifth Year prefect, also gave them a study guide that included book references for the library and a list of tips for study and class preparation.

“Remember the three P’s, Slytherins are poised, prepared and punctual at all times” Felicity said, looking each first year in the eye, “If you tarnish our reputation then you will face the… disappointment… of not only Professor Snape but the rest of us. You will get one warning only, if you continue to fail to behave in a manner befitting a member of our noble House then you will start earning punishments. These vary from cleaning the communal areas and bathrooms by hand, waiting on your housemates, losing privileges and access to more pleasurable pass times, to detentions with Professor Snape for persistent offenders. Understood?”

The first years nodded, almost in unison. Felicity had to turn away to hide her smile as she nearly burst out laughing at their terrified expressions. She could not remember being so small and so in awe of the older years and the Castle. It wouldn’t be long until they had all the posture and confidence befitting a Slytherin though.

The tour was soon completed and they were back in their common room after a much less extravagant but just as delicious dinner. Harry, Draco, Blaise, Pansy and Daphne decided to work together on preparing for the following day; they had Transfiguration with Ravenclaw followed by lunch and then History of Magic with Hufflepuff and finally Potions with Gryffindor.

They had met all of the teachers and with the preparation he had already done with Severus in the summer and that he was doing now, Harry felt that he would be well prepared for the next day.

~#~

Healer Trimble left Riddle Manor looking confused, he had a nagging feeling that something far more important than a standard Mind Healing session had occurred yet he clearly remembered helping the resident with his severe floo phobia. Shaking his head in bewilderment he made his way past the wards and apparated home, by the time he had eaten his supper he had completely forgotten his mysterious patient.

Back in the Manor there was a new buzz of activity. House elves were busy cleaning and airing out the gloomy building and removing furniture coverings as well as making essential repairs. All in all it was looking far more cheerful and was once again a home.

Voldemort was in the now cosy library with Lucius Malfoy, the blonde aristocrat had arrived shortly after Healer Trimble had departed. Lucius couldn't help but notice that his leader was looking much more at peace with himself though a tightness remained around his mouth.

"My Lord, I am pleased to see you looking so well" he ventured, giving an elegant nod of respect as he lowered himself into one of the large, comfortable chairs by the fire.

"Lucius" Voldemort acknowledged as he made himself comfortable. "My meetings with Healer Trimble are now complete, my core and my mind are once again stable and synchronised with one another. However I have been unable to trace all of the manipulations and alterations that have occurred in the past. I believe that I have found the way to find this information but it has its own... risks. I have a list of items that must be recovered and quickly, the diary I entrusted to you, Slytherin's locket, Ravenclaw's diadem and the Gaunt family ring. Helga Hufflepuff's chalice has already been cleansed.

"I also need you to locate a particular wizard for me; I need to find a Spirit Walker, a Shaman. The practice has long died out in Western Europe so we will need your contacts in either Russia or perhaps the Americas.

"The Soul Fragment within Helga's chalice was essentially destroyed with my rebirth, however each of the other Horcruxes are essentially time capsules of my magic, my mind and my core at various intervals in my past - with the aid of a skilled Spirit Walker I may yet be able to prove my betrayer and reverse the damage completely before absorbing the Soul pieces back into my core."

Voldemort looked his most loyal follower and perhaps closest friend in the eye as he spoke. He saw the hidden reflections of shock, enlightenment and determination in Lucius' expression as he revealed his plan. He was reassured to see that Malfoy did not look concerned by his task and was ready to get straight to work on his new goal once released from his Lord's presence.

After some small talk and some fine brandy Lucius took his leave, already planning his letters to contacts as the green flames of the Floo swirled him away.

~#~

The first class for the Slytherin first years was Transfiguration with Ravenclaw. Harry wasn't sure if he was looking forward to the class; during orientation the day before he had gotten the distinct impression that Professor McGonagall was disappointed with him and he didn't know why.

He found a seat towards the back of the classroom so his back was protected, with one side to the door and Draco between him and the other students; he felt secure enough to focus on his books and prepared for the class.

Both he and his blonde friend jumped as the cat that had been grooming itself on the teacher's desk suddenly transformed into their dour Professor. Harry found himself wondering about the physics of the transformation - how the transfer of mass occurred - but decided to simply shrug it off under the mantle of 'magic' for the time being until he learned more.

The first lesson was mostly about theory and learning the magic incantation and wand movement along with some limitations. For example they learned that transfigurations would be temporary unless they infused the object with some of their own magic to 'fix' the change - relatively easy for inanimate objects but exceedingly difficult for animate and almost impossible for sentient creatures.

"Have you any questions?" she asked as she finished explaining.

Harry tentatively raised his hand as an idea suddenly gripped him.

"Umn... Professor? is there any way with a permanent transfigured object to tell that it has been transfigured? and if so can you reverse it without knowing the previous form?" he asked, almost whispering.

"It is possible to reverse transfigured objects but identifying them is a complicated and not altogether reliable process unless the Witch or Wizard has specialised in that field, why do you ask?" McGonagall queried, eyebrow raised as she looked at him

"Well, if you had a stolen object... or even a body to hide... then you could simply transfigure it into something else to hide it and then leave it in plain sight. It's rather scary and all too easy really..." Harry flushed as everyone looked at him - the class bore a mixture of admiration and horror - depending on their background. 

McGonagall just looked like she had swallowed her tongue and was gulping convulsively and staring at him, utterly shocked.

"Yes, well, that's why the Aurors have a division that specialises in such spell work and other detection techniques Mr Potter" she managed to reply after a few moments "So I can assure you that I am not going to be teaching you methods of body disposal!"

She was soon distracted by more questions from the rest of the class, especially the Ravenclaws, but kept giving him looks that were a strange mix of concerned and suspicion.

Harry decided it would be a good idea to keep his more out-of-the box ideas to himself for the time being and just concentrated on taking notes.

As Transfiguration was a double period it took them almost to lunch, a single session was left free as a 'study period' but as term had just started the students headed to their common rooms or outside instead of the Library. 

"Harry, where did those questions come from?" Draco asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I dunno" Harry shrugged, picking at invisible dirt on his trousers as they settled on a sofa in the common room. "It just came to me, I mean - those spells she mentioned the Aurors use, do they reveal the original shape or just the last transfigured form? Could you hide something just by transfiguring it say three or four times?"

The blonde Slytherin stared at his friend, mouth open in shock. He had never considered such a possibility and had never heard even his father mention anything like that when Draco had eavesdropped on him and his friends.

The two boys spent some time writing a quick letter or two each, Draco writing to his father and Harry to Tom and a short note to Professor Snape, before they had to head off to lunch. 

_'Dear Father'_

Draco wrote.

_'As you said, the first twenty-four hours are proving to be very interesting._

_You will be pleased to note I am in Slytherin as expected. I know you said Ravenclaw was acceptable as an alternative but I know a true Malfoy could only be at home in the Snake Pit._

_Godfather has made me most welcome, giving me a choice bed in the dorm and letting me know I can see him at any time should there be any need._

_You will never guess who is also in Slytherin with me Father! -Harry Potter!!!-_

_The look on everyone's faces when the Sorting Hat called it out was priceless; I do wish you had been here to see it! I have made sure to welcome him and show all the grace and manners I possess as befits your heir._

_I had, in fact, met him on the train. I knew who he was of course, despite him keeping his identity rather secret. Father, he is nothing like I expected. He is nothing like myself or any of the other Purebloods, yet nothing like the mudbloods either._

_In Transfigurations this morning, well, I think he actually -scared- that old Cat McGonagall! I mean, really Father! He was asking bizarre questions about whether you could hide stolen goods or even -bodies- by transfiguring them into other items! After the Professor told us that there are Wizards that can detect and reverse that kind of thing he then wondered how far back do they check - do they only reverse a couple of transfigurations or could you hide the goods by changing them several times?_

_He is not what the Old Fool was expecting I think and I hope it does not displease you Father but I am becoming fast friends with Harry, I hope you will allow me to invite him to the Manor for one of the holidays?_

_Your loving Son_

_Draco Malfoy'_

He signed off with a flourish and fastened it with a simple green ribbon that self-locked, his father had refused him the use of a family seal until his first report card at Yule. Draco then took it to the magical window that allowed the dungeon students to access their postal birds without a lengthy climb to the Owlry and send it off with his fine hawk, Ura. 

He had named her Urania after the Greek Muse of Astrology in honour of his mother's family and their penchant for naming both people and familiars after the stars but quickly shortened it for ease.

Harry's letter to Tom was short and stilted, he had never written to anyone before, never had anyone he wanted to write to before.

_Dear Tom_

_I have arrived safely. The train ride was long but not boring. I met a red head called Ron first but he was rude and greedy and then Neville and Hermione. Neville is like me I think but he didn't say. Hermione is quite chatty but nice._

_I made friends with Draco Malfoy, he stopped Ron from hurting me. We're in Slytherin together._

_Sev put me in the corner so I'm safe. Draco is next to me so I'm safe. Sev gave me a light._

_How are you and everyone?_

_Harry_

He sent that letter off with Hedwig, pleased that he had someone to send mail to and that Hedwig wouldn't feel neglected. His note to Professor Snape was even shorter and just as awkward.

_Dear Professor_

_Please can I come see you? Need to talk._

_Can I see Kari? Is she happy?_

_Harry_

He sent that note off with one of the house elves, the poor creature falling over himself with joy at being able to help 'The Great Master Harry Potter Sir' with such a task.

~#~

Lunch was yet another extravagant spread. Harry stared in awe as Draco served them both in his impatience, selecting a range of cold roast meats and salad as the weather was still quite warm this early in the year.

After the mid-day meal they would be spending the entire afternoon in their first Potions class under their head of House. Harry would have been looking forward to it if they had been with either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff but for some bizarre reason they would be spending their most dangerous class with the Gryffindors.

It was obvious that his Guardian was not responsible for arranging the class schedule, there was no way that he would ever put such bitter rivals in close proximity with potentially explosive materials.

Harry sighed to himself as he sat down to eat, not sure if he was looking forward to this at all.

~#~

Down in the dungeons the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins gathered in the corridor outside the Potions classroom. They were in two distinct groups and Harry couldn't help but shudder when he saw the red-head from the train.

The ginger Gryffindor was glowering at Harry and kept muttering to the two boys stood by him, they also scowled at the shy brunette who did his best to stay as far from them as possible.

As soon as possible he headed into the classroom with Draco and sat with the blonde at the front with the other Slytherins. He quickly pulled out some parchment and a Never-Out quill that was self-inking and saved much time and mess.

Just as everyone was settled in the dimly lit classroom the professor swept into the room, his black robes billowing behind him. Without breaking stride he waved his wand to close the door and spoke, his velvety voice filled with both threat and promise.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death… if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

He sneered as he looked around the room, taking in each student and making a mental note about their expression and appearance. He was pleased to note that most of the Slytherins at least looked attentive, though a few looked actually interested, including Harry and Draco.

Over among the Gryffindors there were mostly sour faces, they had already been warned about the 'Greasy Git' and his hatred of their house. He smirked slightly as he prepared to shock them this year, though he made a mental note about the Weasley boy who looked like trouble with his petulant expression. The Muggle-born boy next to him - Dean Thomas - however, looked like he was fascinated by the prospect.

"Now, as I can't trust any of you to not kill us all with your ineptitude we are going to be starting with some basic skills lessons. As such you will be preparing the concoction on the board before you" Snape drawled, flicking his wand to show the instructions to the students.

"Oh you have got to me kidding me!" Ron exclaimed, his face screwing up in disgust.

Everyone turned and stared as the Potions Master rounded on the suddenly nervous looking boy, any other students that had been less than pleased with the assignment were quick to disguise the fact when they saw their teacher's face.

"Mr Weasley" he snapped "I suppose you think you are too good for this assignment? that you are already a master of the craft? Do you know why I have assigned this task?"

"N-n-no Sir..." Ron shook his head and stammered.

"What happens, Mr Weasley, if you mince ginger root in a Draught of Clarity instead of dicing it?" Snape asked, smirking at the terrified boy.

"I...I don't know" the red head had to admit, flushing with embarrassment.

"And what is the difference between mincing and dicing?" Snape continued, looming over the stocky Gryffindor.

"Umn..." Ron looked baffled, turning to his housemates for help. "I... I don't know" He finally admitted.

"And that is why I have assigned this work!" Snape exclaimed. "If you use minced ginger instead of diced in that particular potion, which you will learn next year, then the person drinking the concoction would have an aneurysm - that is for those of you that don't know - a rise in blood pressure so sudden within the brain that a blood vessel actually bursts. If lucky death is instantaneous as the disabilities caused by such a malady cannot be treated by Magic, in fact they leave a patient unstable so they must be drained of their magic and taken to a Muggle facility.

The reason why this reaction is so strong is because the ginger has too large a surface area and reacts with the milkweed sap too quickly, by dicing instead of mincing is absorbs at the correct rate for the desired result.

The purpose of this session is to learn the difference between diced and minced, chopped and sliced, crushed and pulverised, ground and pureed as well as lab safety, how to use your equipment and other vital skills. 

Now, get to it, and Mr Weasley, five points from Gryffindor for your attitude. However, as it is your first day, I will give you the chance to earn those points back if your results are satisfactory. Understand?" Snape raised an eyebrow as he watched the stunned boy.

"Y-yes Sir" Ron gulped and looked back to the board, jumping when all the ingredients appeared on the desk before him.

Harry smirked as he looked at the board before him and down to the illustrated 'fact sheet' that had appeared with the ingredients.

The fact sheet included instructions on how to prepare each ingredient and pictures of the finished products as well as tips on how to achieve each step as well as safety instructions, diagrams on how to hold a knife safely and a basic 'reflection' charm that could be placed over a cauldron to stop items falling in or being thrown in - a hand belonging to the castor of the spell had to enter the area covered by the charm to release the ingredients otherwise they would be repelled.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Snape barked as the children looked at the board in shock. "It won't make itself, get going!"

Draco raised his hand nervously, waiting for the dour looking Potions Master to nod before he spoke.

"Sir, what potion is it? I don't recognise it" the young Pureblood asked, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

There were several sniggers around the class from the various Muggle-born or raised students, though the other Purebloods or those raised in an entirely Magical environment looked equally confused.

"Mr Malfoy, I know you have never cooked in your life and in all likelihood have never even visited the kitchen in your manor but surely even you can identify a recipe when you see one?" Severus sighed, stunned by how oblivious some students could be. "Surely beef, tomatoes, onions and other vegetables and seasonings without a single magical element would give you a clue? Or perhaps the part labelled 'Serving Suggestions'? No? Well now you know. It is Minestrone Soup - chosen because it contains many of the basic techniques you will be using in this year’s potions."

Snape looked each student in the eye again, warning them with just his glare.

"I will not be allowing any of you to advance onto more volatile ingredients until I am certain you are safe to do so, however, if you impress me with your culinary skills then you shall advance that much sooner. Now stop gaping at me like stunned fish and get to work, you now only have ninety minutes to complete your soup."

Harry and Draco were working together and soon started on their ingredients, carefully mincing the beef, taking a clean knife and chopping board before dicing onions, slicing carrot and green beans, mincing garlic before going to separate boards and Harry worked on crushing and grinding the various dried herbs and black pepper while Draco diced celery and tomatoes.

Once the ingredients were ready they set their cauldron to heat and after a couple of tries they managed to get the protection charm in place and started combining the items in the large pot. 

First browning the meat, adding the onions and seasoning, then adding the stock that the Professor had provided and adding the carefully prepared vegetables and some fresh kidney beans that hadn't needed any prep at set intervals so they would cook in the right amount of time and keep the right texture.

Once it was simmering safely they were able to clean up their work station and look around and Harry was surprised to see the amount of trouble some people were having. Several tables were in complete disarray, Severus was busy healing minor cuts on several students who had nicked their fingers, another had a cold cloth to their face where they had rubbed their eye with onion juice on their fingers and this was all just from making soup?!

Just then the dark haired Slytherin turned back to his own cauldron and realised it was ready to take off the heat, the final ten minutes had passed very quickly with the cleaning up and while observing the rest of the class.

After a taste Harry and Draco agreed on the final seasoning and were just pouring their finished soup into a large flask, as were a few other student pairs, all containing at least one Muggle born or raised student, when there was a commotion from the other side of the room.

"Oh bloody hell!" Ronald Weasley exclaimed just as thick black smoke started to billow from his cauldron.

Snape quickly cast a containment bubble over the smoking pot and banished the burned mess before turning on the hapless redhead and his partner for the task, a shamefaced Gryffindor called Lavender Brown. She had left Ron to look after the project while she was busy gossiping with a girl on the next table, only paying any attention whenever Professor Snape was doing rounds in between dealing with mishaps and minor injuries. 

The Professor had already reprimanded both of them for their inattention on several occasions and taken points from Lavender and her neighbour for their chatter.

Although Ron had been apparently working quite hard, between badgering his housemate for help, he had forgotten one important step and not lowered the heat after browning the meat - allowing the cauldron to boil dry and the vegetables burn.

The young Gryffindor was almost in tears, he had been desperate to earn back those points and now it was ruined.

"You idiot boy! And you girl! What have I told you about your inattention? Clear your work stations, everyone! and you two... five points from Gryffindor... each!" Snape barked out as he cleared the air with quite strokes of his wand and assisted a couple of choking Gryffindors.

After order had been restored and everyone had put their soup - completed or not - into the flasks provided and the room tidied of any debris and equipment, the dour Professor brought everyone's attention to a new list on the board.

It listed every injury and incident that had occurred during the lesson and the treatment it had required, it also listed the numbers of completed containers of soup, incomplete and complete failures.

"As you can see, you are nowhere near ready to be let loose on actual potions" Snape sneered as he looked around the room. "The number of minor injuries with benign ingredients is staggering, a single trace of human blood in most potions will have disastrous effects - making them anything from explosive to toxic to another potion entirely! All this from a simple cut on a finger that is not immediately healed and the contaminated ingredients not burned and a knife not sterilised!

And let's not forget about rubbing onion juice into one's eyes! Just how imbecilic can a person be?! If that had been Moonstone Dust or the juice from a Tangled Night Root then you would be dead - a myriad of other ingredients could leave you blind, mad, a drooling idiot or more.

Potions are the gateway to a world of wonder, marvels and miracles. They can cure almost any ailment, prolong life, create life, prevent or end life. They can change things beyond your wildest imagination!

However they must be respected and the ingredients handled with the greatest care, in the Muggle world the creation of any medication or concoction with even a tenth of these effects is so restricted that less than three percent of the world population has any connection!

If I cannot trust you then I do not care about your grades, despite this being a required part of your curriculum you will be restricted to theoretical learning only until I can trust that you will treat this art with the respect it deserves.

Now, anyone without any form of injury or failed result may take an additional five points for their House and I want a thousand words or two feet of parchment - whichever is longer - on the differences between mincing, dicing, grinding, crushing and slicing and how they can affect the properties of ginger, garlic, dandelion root and willow leaves.

This is to be handed in at the beginning of next week, you can ask any questions next lesson since we have another session before your homework is due, all the information is in your text book.

I will be accepting no excuses. Dismissed! Not you Potter, stay behind."

~#~

Once the other students had cleared the room, heading to dormitories to drop off their school supplies and prepare for dinner, Harry approached his Head of House.

"Harry, congratulations on your Minestrone, it looks and smells delicious." Snape congratulated him somewhat stiffly as he indicated the boy should sit. "Now, I got your message saying you wanted to talk. As I said before you came here, I am always going to be available for you, maybe not immediately depending on my duties but as soon as I can. If you ever need me you may come to my quarters, I will show you them in a moment and add you to the wards - you can visit Kari too, she's made herself very much at home."

"Thank you Sir" Harry whispered, feeling awkward and shy around his guardian again. Seeing the man so harsh with the other children had set him on edge and he was feeling wary and unsure.

"Harry... Child... I know you find it hard to believe me but I would like you to try. I will never deliberately hurt or scare you. As we talked about at Tom's - there are forces beyond my control making me act... harsher... than I would like, especially here and I must fight them every step of the way. I must also keep up a pretence in front of the other members of staff of at least indifference around you, they cannot discover our relationship at this juncture or they would do their best to remove you from my House and my care. Do you understand?" Snape spoke softly, slowly moving to sit next to his Ward.

To his utter shock, Harry leant briefly against him, taking strength from his Guardian before jumping back nervously and flushing, eyes down.

Sighing at the renewed look of fear on the boy's face, Severus lead Harry to his quarters and showed him the hidden entrance, teaching him the password and adding the boy to his wards. 

Harry was ecstatic to see his kitten again and was soon happily playing with her, pulling a string with some tattered Jabberknoll feathers attached for her to chase. He kept the movements slow and on the ground so she count chase and pounce easily despite her missing leg and Severus was relieved to hear a few carefree giggles escape the boy.

A quick word had a House Elf take Harry's school things back to the dorm and a selection of the evening meal brought down to the boy. Severus had to show his face at the staff table or arouse suspicion but once rumour circulated that he had made Harry stay behind after class then most would simply assume the boy had been too upset to eat - it had often been the case before with other students.

As he settled into his seat at the head table the Potions Master was suddenly aware of piercing blue eyes staring at him, Dumbledore's eyes hard as he glared briefly at his youngest professor, genial mask temporarily forgotten as he tried to identify the changes in the younger man.


End file.
